Deer in the Headlights
by libranravenclaw
Summary: Scabior is a self-professed criminal, trying to nab a bag of candy - when he catches the scent of a passing young woman. He follows her to her high school - only to be pepper sprayed point blank by none other than Hermione Granger. AU Review please.
1. Parking Lots and Pepper Spray

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters mentioned below. This is just for fun, and I'm, obviously, not making any money off of it.

**Parking Lots and Pepper Spray**

One never knows what moment will change their life. Dropping a glass, catching just a few more seconds of a show before you leave, smiling at someone on the bus... All it takes is the smallest amount of time to change a life for the better, or the worse.

o0o

In a crowded super market, one day in Autumn, a self-professed criminal, by the name of Scabior, had his life change completely. He was attempting to browse (and steal something from) the candy aisle (petty theft had always been on his record), but was having a slightly hard time. It was nearing the holidays and it seemed as if everyone and their brother were shopping together, jostling passers-by and accidentally locking carts together or shouting across people about prices. Scabior could almost _feel_ the idiocy rolling off of some of these people and the longer the little old lady hogged the space in front of the Butterfingers, the more irritated Scabior became.

He was almost to the point of pushing her out of the way (did a little old woman need _that_ much candy?), or possibly pinching her purse, really, she was so engrossed with the Butterfingers Scabior had himself been eyeing, that she would never notice. But, for the third time in that aisle, someone tried to rush by with a full shopping cart and tried to take off Scabior's toes. Grunting with the pain, he stepped back and knocked into someone else (he was beginning to feel like he was trapped in a can of sardines) mumbling a half hearted apology. He didn't turn his blue eyes to see whom he had careened into, but when he took a breath... Scabior froze. In this sea of body odor, eau de old lady and greasy foods from the deli, there was a single breath of clear, sweet air. A hint of vanilla, or a sweet smelling flower and Scabior found himself closing his eyes to appreciate it more fully.

The Butterfingers, which before had been extremely appeasing, were now forgotten. Scabior blinked, pulling himself from his short, self-induced stupor and whipped his head to the left, where the hint of vanilla was fading... and a slim girl, with bushy brown locks and a quick step, was rushing away. Scabior's eyebrows raised, his expression one of intrigue and tried to weave his way through the traffic of shopping carts and food displays before the girl disappeared out the automatic doors. He swore beneath his breath, the people here seemed to exist just to get in his way, and gave a sneer to a woman who looked upset with his language. Other than the huff of anger that he could hear from behind him, Scabior was now free to make his way out, to where he could just barely see that head of brown far down the sidewalk.

"Damn'it all," Scabior muttered and broke into a trot, watching the girls jean-clad legs disappear around a corner. He couldn't say _why_ exactly, but it was extremely important that he follow her, that he speak to her... Because-because... Just the memory of her perfume gave Scabior a small shiver and he bit his bottom lip as he picked up the pace. The little thing was fast, no doubt about it, but Scabior had a bit of a talent for running, having been chased out of more establishments than he could count, long before the police showed up. His black boots thumped evenly along the pavement, his dark, disheveled jacket flaring out behind him as he turned the corner, seeing her not too far ahead. Scabior allowed himself a small smile and looked towards the building where she seemed to be heading - and tripped over his own boots and fell upon the pavement, skinning his palms. The local High School. High School. "Son ov'a bitch," Scabior shouted, pushing himself up. A few sparrows, sitting comfortably on the power lines above, scattered in all directions.

Younger than he had thought. _Much_ younger. Scabior found himself staring at the sign, having lost sight of the girl while he cursed himself and scared the birds. A bell rang somewhere inside the school. He hadn't quite seen her face - but those legs... She just had to be legal. He threw up his hands and snarled quietly, before slapping them back down on his thighs and staring at the cement. Well, now that he was here, that he had even followed her in the first place, what was he going to do? Scabior paced back and forth for a moment, like a caged animal, trying to make up his mind. The thought of the girl, of that... appetizing smell, was enough to have him walking into classrooms, or peering through windows, searching for that head of messy hair... Which would no doubt bring the police out in full force, he could almost hear the worried teachers, "-a strange man going into our classrooms and asking after a female student!" Scabior ran a hand through his ragged hair and shook his head. He was mad. And so, Scabior settled down on the edge of the school parking lot, where he had a good view of the entrance and waited for school to let out.

o0o

The last three hours of the school day were torture. For Scabior, that is. He could have ran back to that store, nicked himself some food - but what if she was just a school aide? He didn't want to risk missing her, but at the same time was cursing himself for his stupidity. What was he even going to say? "'ello there, I smelled you when you was passin' by in the supermarket-" it sounded ridiculous, even to himself, and Scabior had used some downright idiotic pickup lines before. He found himself going over some of the better pick up lines in his head when the bell rang again, signaling the end of the day. A tidal wave of students seemed to rush out and in the general hubbub, Scabior was allowed to stand back and search without being bothered. He kept telling himself that he hadn't seen her yet, though every single head of brown hair made his head whirl. Scabior rubbed his neck, hoping he wouldn't give himself whiplash. Five minutes passed before the wave slowed to a trickle and Scabior sat back down, eyebrows drawn together, though now he focused on every female that walked by.

He noticed a small redhead openly staring back at him, and when he focused on her again, she didn't look away like he expected her to. Her eyebrows were raised and she watched him quietly, as if she were considering something, but eventually turned her attention back to the two young men on either side of her. Scabior spared a thought to wonder what it was about, but focused now on the nearly empty parking lot. He hadn't seen her anywhere. He let out a slow breath, drumming his fingers on his knees and waited another twenty minutes, seeing only an elderly teacher make his way to his car. Scabior hurriedly got to his feet, and noting that no one was watching him, bounded up the school steps. He had come this far, at the very least, he was going to have a look around. Scabior kept up a steady tapping on his legs, walking by rows of lockers and peering in dark classrooms. Somewhere in the back of his head, he wondered if he'd imagined the girl, but a little thrill went through his body when he stopped in view of the library, just as she walked out.

This time, Scabior could see her face. While her hair was a bit unmanageable, she had pretty features, with pale skin and dark eyes and she smiled warmly at someone she was saying good-bye to, and then walked away. In the direction of the parking lot. It took Scabior a moment to realize that, once again, she was getting away, but this time he snapped out of his daze a bit quicker. Scabior took a few steps and then broke into a sprint, his footsteps echoing off the building walls as he ran. He didn't think about what he was going to say, he didn't stop and think about what he looked like - a man, obviously not a student, disheveled and dirty, running full out towards a female student in the parking lot. Scabior, obviously, didn't think at all. And so when he slowed, a few feet behind the girl and pasted on his best, seducing smile, while trying to say "'ello beauti-" Scabior never would have guessed that he was going to be pepper sprayed at point blank range.

"AGHHH!" Scabior immediately screamed and clutched at his eyes, hands shaking while he tried to keep himself from dropping and curling into a fetal position. He barely registered her voice, currently high pitched and full of a mixture of anger and fear - screaming back at him - "RAPIST! RAPIST!" The pain was horrible. Like rubbing your eyes with raw onions, and Scabior was now clenching his teeth to keep from continuing to screech. It took him a moment more, his eyes still completely watered, his sight non-existant, to realize she was calling him a rapist - and she wasn't running away.  
>"No-no! Beautiful - I - who even carries pepper spray in a school? Here I was - just tryin' to come over and give ya a compliment and- damn'it!" Scabior continued to blink, sniffling slightly and trying to rub his eyes so he could at least see a shadow. Her shouts slowly died down and Scabior jumped when she spoke in a normal voice.<br>"Oh, well, sorry - but really! I suggest the next time you want to voice a compliment you do so in a normal manner! You just - just, were like a hound on a hunt, barreling down the hallway like some sort of mad man!"

Still in pain, Scabior gave only the barest of thoughts to the fact that, he really had looked like an escaped mental patient. Still clutching his eyes, sniffling, Scabior gave a low laugh before he turned towards the sound of her voice and quipped: "I was blinded by yer beauty, so I'm goin' to need yer name and number for insurance reasons." There was silence from the young woman and as Scabior sniffled again, he caught the smallest hint of vanilla perfume. Though his eyes were still on fire, he felt himself grinning like a loon.  
>"Indeed. My name is Hermione Granger - and now that it seems I've made a grave error in defending myself, let me take you to the nurse here," she murmured, slim, cool fingers taking his wrist and pulling it away from his eyes. He could hear her give out a little sigh, as if this was a terrible inconvenience for her.<br>"Whatever you do, please stop rubbing your eyes - it's making it worse. Your touch is heating the capillaries, which you do not want. Just let me lead you the the nurse, alright?" Scabior promised himself that he was going to pinch a few bottles of whiskey, or something hard, this evening. This had sure been one of the most... interesting days of his life. But still - Scabior smirked a little as she tightened her hold on him, leading him blind through the school. At least he knew her name.

**A/N:** Quick note - this was based off of a youtube video (which I found extremely amusing) with Scabior and Hermione and the song "Deer in the Headlights" by Owl City. This is also intended to be a bit of a spoof (the song and plot just _beg_ for hilarious hijinks) but I hope everyone enjoys it!


	2. That's the Way

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the characters mentioned below. This is just for fun, and I'm, obviously, not making any money off of it.

**That's the Way**

Scabior had planned to nab a bottle or two of whiskey, but with his eyes swollen and red he looked a bit like a crack-head and he was suspect just walking into the store. Feeling the eyes of the clerk burn holes in his back, Scabior left and decided to head to the bar. He would have to pay for his drinks, but he could deal with that - he didn't want to deal with the police. Especially today. Scabior knew a question about his eyes would come up - and he very much doubted they would believe that a girl "accidentally" pepper sprayed him. Not to mention his record... No, it was all just a better idea to buy his drinks and forget about the residual pain. Scabior sighed and knocked back another shot of Jack. A portly man gave Scabior a look out of the corner of his eye, having heard the sigh and let out a guffaw.

"Well then, what happened to you, young fellow?" Scabior looked over at him, wondering at the 'young fellow' comment, but didn't snap about it. A wry smile twisted his lips and he traced a finger around the edge of his shot glass.  
>"Havin' a bit of bad luck today. Tried to compliment a woman and got pepper sprayed." Scabior shook his head and then looked back at the man. He stared at Scabior, as if he had misheard - and then laughed again, his belly shaking with the force of it. Scabior brushed a stray red hair out of his face and nodded his head as the man continued to laugh. He had completely expected this reaction.<p>

"I guess that's the way it goes, eh? Pepper sprayed!" The man continued to chortle and Scabior rolled his eyes, reaching up to rub the left one - only to freeze and lower his hand. The remainder of his time with Hermione had been spent treating his new ailment - and though he was in fiery pain, Scabior had still enjoyed every moment of it.

o0o

Blinking rapidly, Scabior lifted his hand, ready to wipe away the welling tears, only to have his hand slapped back down to his side. He swiftly turned towards Hermione, eyes squinting as he tried to make her out and gave her a great frown. "Ya know, this really hurts, I just need ta-"

"No. You need to stop touching it, it'll only make it worse," she answered promptly, pulling on his other arm to get him walking again. Scabior's frown stayed plastered to his face and he turned his head away, slowly lifting his hand to try and touch his face - which was immediately slapped down again. Scabior was sorely tempted to stomp his foot, but knew he would make a silly sight. He was a grown man, not a toddler having a tantrum.

"Listen here now, beautiful, the-" He had barely begun to speak when Hermione let out a great, dramatic sigh and pulled him along again.

"No. I already told you, if you want your eyes to recover quickly, you _need_ to stop touching them - and you also need to stop calling me 'beautiful', my name is Hermione." She stopped him, knocking on a near-by door. Scabior would have replied, she liked to be in charge, didn't she? - but the door opened and Hermione began speaking rapidly.

"Hello Mrs. Pomfrey! I'm awfully sorry, but this man needs a bit of help. Uh - it seems that I mistakenly used pepper spray on him and-" Hermione's voice wavered and Scabior felt a smile try and ripple across his face. She felt _guilty_, which he could well use to his advantage.

"Good heavens! Really, Hermione! Of all the students I would have thought that you would think before you acted," the nurse continued on her tirade as she led Scabior and Hermione inside and sat Scabior down in a hard folding chair. He could hear the nurse opening and closing a fridge and then running water into a bowl or bucket. Hermione stood near-by, he could still smell that sweet perfume, but she didn't say anything, though it sounded as if she were fidgeting. "Now, here we are. Unfortunately, sir, this will be rather uncomfortable, here now, hold this beneath your face and keep your eyes open - we're going to need to spray a bit of milk-" Scabior started, the surprise obvious on his face and crumpled the small hand-towel the nurse had given him.

"Milk? Yer about to spray _milk_ into my eyes?" He could sense, though not see, the exasperation from both of the women in the room and Scabior scowled. "Just keep your eyes open, please," the nurse told him, tilting back his head and using a spray bottle to spray the milk in his eyes. Scabior cursed - amidst Mrs. Pomfrey's mutterings about doing so in front of ladies - but was pleasantly surprised when the burning began to lessen. A tenseness he hadn't noticed in his shoulders seemed to ease out and he let loose a small, relieved sigh. The milk streamed down his face and dripped into the hand-towel while Scabior tried to blink and clear his vision. It didn't help very much, but he was still happier than he had been moments ago.

"Now, that was the easy part, pat your eyes please - yes, now I'm going to have to wash the skin around eyes - and your hands as well. The oil residue left there could very easily be moved into your eyes if you touch them now." Scabior scowled again, because he just _knew_ that Hermione was giving him a smug little smile. It took about twenty minutes, and his eyes were still burning - but now he could see and Mrs. Pomfrey assured him that if he kept his hands away, his eyes should be feeling much better within the hour. Scabior glanced at Hermione, who had a straight, almost stoic look on her face, but he noticed her hands twisting and knew she still felt guilty. Scabior just barely kept himself from smiling.

"Alright now, off with the both of you - they'll be locking the gates soon and I really do need to get home." Mrs. Pomfrey ushered the both of them out of her office and closed the door behind them. Scabior was still blinking, but happily turned to Hermione, looking down and giving her a debonair smile. Hermione's expression didn't change much, but her eyebrows rose a hint.

"So, do ya need someone to walk ya home?" Scabior asked as politely as he could, but Hermione suddenly looked annoyed. She shook her head quickly, shifting her bag on her shoulders and gave him a quick once-over. Scabior pursed his lips and looked away, towards a row of lockers, mind running a mile a minute.  
>"Seein' as <em>you<em> were the one who pepper sprayed me - maybe ya would like to walk me home, eh?" Scabior fully smiled again and turned back to her, only to find her gone. He looked around quickly and could see her hurrying towards the school exit, brown curls bouncing against her shoulders. He didn't think he would be able to follow her now without a repeat performance - and this time she wouldn't believe him or have a handy nurse around to treat his eyes. Scabior cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted into them.

"I'll take that as a no this time! But ya still owe me yer number for insurance purposes!" He could see her back straighten, as if she wanted to turn around and tell him off - but she continued on with her quick pace, quickly leaving him behind. Scabior took a deep breath and could still catch a whiff of sweet vanilla. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he strolled out of the school, thinking fondly of a bit of hard liquor to ease the left over pain. Other than the burning eyes, it had been... Well, horrendous, yet enjoyable, and Hermione Granger was sure a beauty. Another little shiver went through him and Scabior couldn't help but sigh. He wasn't sure he could help himself, he wasn't always such an idiot. He also knew that he shouldn't come back tomorrow. Or ever. Scabior also didn't know if he cared to do the right thing.

A tumbler of whiskey would be just the thing to clear his thoughts.

**A/N:** Yes, that is one of the ways you treat eyes that have been pepper sprayed, though I don't know how different it would be if you say, went to the hospital, or were taken in by the police because you had been pepper sprayed when trying to mug someone. *shrugs* This is turning into something epic in my head.. And here I thought it would be something short and silly.


	3. Beast with a Black Eye

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the characters mentioned below. This is just for fun, and I'm, obviously, not making any money off of it.

**Beast with a Black Eye**

He was an absolute beast. And not in the way that Lavender Brown would have meant it. Hermione was expressionless as she walked to school, government book held tight to her chest and her dark eyes focused on the sidewalk in front of her. She would be the first to admit that he was more than a _little_ strange. While not _bad_ looking, his clothes were shabby, and though he hadn't smelled any worse than most men, there were dirt smudges on his face and thick crescents caked beneath his fingernails. And the way he had sprinted after her - not calling out, or jogging, but sprinting! Any other sane woman would have assumed that the man had less than noble intentions. Hermione's eyebrows drew together and she gave her head a little shake. He really had been frightening, and it had taken quite a bit for Hermione to not bolt after she pepper sprayed him right in the eyes, but then he had surprised her. She doubted that someone attempting to mug, or rape, would try and apologize - even in such an off-handed way.

And then, the audacity of that man! She was all of 17, and while she didn't know his _exact_ age, he had obviously been out of high school for more than five or six years. And from the looks of him, he hadn't been doing much besides raiding the clothes at Goodwill. Those ridiculous plaid pants? Hermione rolled her eyes. True, she was not a self-proclaimed fashionista, but she liked to think she had acceptable taste - and the pants had been atrocious. She shifted her backpack and tossed her head, trying to get a few curls out of her face. He had, had... _hit_ _on her_, even after she had pepper sprayed him in the face. If that wasn't a sign of insanity, Hermione didn't know what was. As she approached the school Hermione quickly scanned the parking lot, though she knew her friends never showed up this early, if they could help it. But there was also no sign of the man who had - Hermione frowned.

He had looked awfully familiar. At least, his profile did. The straight nose and the red streak in his hair... Hermione's mouth opened and a single dark brow raised in thought. Why, if she didn't know any better, she could have sworn that she had seen someone extremely similar when she had rushed into the super market during her lunch break. But it wasn't possible. She blinked and shot a disgusted look at the sidewalk, imagining his... leer was the only word for it. When someone smiled, they usually looked friendly and she didn't think that he could ever look _friendly_. If he had been the one she saw in the store, then that meant...

"A stalker?" Hermione wondered aloud, taking the stairs two at a time. It was absolutely preposterous. And if he had been hanging about, surely someone would have noticed. He didn't exactly fit in well with the crowd. And that was the other thing! Hermione ground her teeth together.  
>"How could I have been so stupid? I fell for that trick and gave him my name - and of course, he isn't polite enough to give one back. It wouldn't surprise me, the hulking brute," Hermione continued with her whispered insults, stopping in front of her locker and spinning the dial back and forth for a few seconds. The locker popped open with a groan and she shoved her government book into it before pulling off her backpack. Maybe it was unwise - she always had such a back ache on the walks to or from school - but Hermione always took all of her books home with her. The government homework for the rest of the quarter was done and she would have done more - but Mr. Binns hadn't even begun to get together a list for the next quarter. She had pressed him for one a few days back, but when he snapped at her, Hermione had relented. It just meant that she would have more time for Chemistry, which she currently only had an A- in. Hermione slammed her locker shut and whirled, heading towards the library.<p>

Mrs. Pince was always earlier than Hermione, so she was able to go straight inside and set her things down on her favorite table, before heading off to the Science section and pulling out three or four books on Chemistry. She had just begun to recite the Periodic Table of Elements in her head, flipping through the pages to find a chart so she could quiz herself - when someone slipped into the chair opposite her. Hermione jumped, one hand clutched just beneath her heart and frowned at the red headed occupant.  
>"Ginny, you gave me a terrible fright!" The red head only smiled in return, her cheeks rosy from physical exertion and Hermione realized that she must have finished with her morning track session. Ginny took a quick peek at the book Hermione was reading and then wrinkled her nose, pushing it back towards her.<p>

"Oh 'Mione, and here I was hoping you'd found another Romance novel I might enjoy." Hermione rolled her eyes and dug through her things, pulling out an extra bookmark and marking her place in Advanced Chemistry. "So, you look more irritated than normal this morning. Did Ron happen to attempt chivalry yesterday?" Ginny grinned again and crossed her arms on the table, leaning down to place her chin on her folded arms.

"Did Ron - oh, no. I... I was actually thinking about Mr. Binns and how he wouldn't give me the list for next quarters homework, and then how I still have that A- in Chemistry." The disappointment in Hermione's voice was extreme, which caused Ginny to shake her head and sigh.  
>"And here I was hoping that there was some exciting tidbit you could share with me," Ginny mock sighed, but stopped when she saw the sheepish look on Hermione's face. "Wait! You mean there <em>is<em> something exciting you can share with me? Well then? Out with it already!" Hermione looked around, but obviously none of the other track runners had drifted into the library and no other students were there yet. She bit her lip, but decided she might as well say something. She had no doubt that Principal Dumbledore had been alerted by Mrs. Pomfrey, and he would comment on it the next time he saw her. Hermione fidgeted, but began to speak.

"Well, I was leaving the library after school yesterday, walking towards the lot when I heard someone _running_ as fast as they possibly could. At first I assumed it was someone heading for the late bus, or maybe their ride was waiting - but I looked over my shoulder and it was this, well, absolutely _insane_ looking man! And he was running right for me!" Hermione shot Ginny a disgruntled look, but Ginny didn't blink, she was listening with rapt attention. "I hurried towards the parking lot, but I could hear him gaining on me, so - you know what my father gave me last Christmas, after that series of muggings?" Ginny gasped and slapped her hands down on the table, her jaw dropping.

"You _didn't_," Ginny shrieked, to which Mrs. Pince shushed them immediately from the other end of the stacks. Hermione looked away, guilt written plainly on her face. "_Well_?" Ginny whispered, eyes wide.

"Well, I pulled out the pepper spray and I used it. He was - much closer than I thought and I - well, it was nearly point blank." Hermione put an elbow on the table, her fingers pressed against her temple. "He said, well, groaned out, that he was trying to come over to give me a compliment - but what normal person even does that? Running after someone like an animal to-to tell them they look nice?" Hermione gestured at empty air, as if no one in their right mind had _ever_ done something so stupid. Ginny didn't move. "And then, then he used a pick up line on me! And even though it was his fault for scaring me so badly, I took him to Mrs. Pomfrey to treat his eyes. I couldn't very well just _leave_ after that!" The astonishment on Ginny's face nearly intensified the guilt that Hermione felt.

"What did he say?" Ginny questioned, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion. Hermione wrinkled her nose, trying to recall. In all honesty, other than she recognized it as a pick up line, she hadn't given what he said much thought. Her face flushed red and she muttered it to Ginny quietly. Ginny covered her face, trying to stifle her laughter. Mrs. Pince shushed them again, and after Ginny had recovered, wiping tears from her eyes, she waved her hand, as if it was nothing. "What did he look like?" Hermione raised an eyebrow, not really wanting to think much more about the subject, but Ginny would hound her, wanting to know if he was attractive.

"He was older, I would say in his late twenties, maybe early thirties... Long brown hair, a red streak, and it was rather ratty. I-I don't know what color his eyes were as I had just pepper sprayed them... But he was dirty and wearing these disheveled punk clothes." Hermione shook her head and then jumped when Ginny gasped.

"Oh 'Mione! I saw him yesterday! He was waiting in the parking lot after the bell rang, just sitting on the stone wall - he was actually rather handsome, you know." Hermione gaped at her friend, completely astonished. Had she really just heard that? She really had. Did that prove it? Was he a stalker? Hermione hadn't realized she had spoken aloud until Ginny hissed at her. "_What_? 'Mione, what do you mean, stalker?"

"I - maybe I'm imagining things! But when I stopped at the super market on my lunch break, I could have sworn I saw him there. In fact, I'm almost sure of it, he backed right into me and I didn't hear an apology. And he was just, just sitting there waiting in the parking lot? And then that craziness with him just..." Hermione's face grew red, though this time it wasn't because of embarrassment, but anger.

o0o

Ginny pestered her the rest of the day, either trying to reassure her that everything was alright, or insisting that she look at the good side of things - _handsome_. Hermione was so mad she wanted to spit. What did it matter if he was good looking or not? _He had waited for her to leave the school_. In Hermione's book, that was someone with bad intentions. But by the end of the school day, she was worn out. Sure, she did have a bit of a temper and Ron and sometimes Harry, knew exactly how to push her buttons - but she rarely kept us this _degree_ of anger. Hermione gathered her things from her locker, students buzzing back and forth and Pansy Parkinson shrieking somewhere in the distance. Hermione shuddered and cradled Advanced Chemistry in her left arm before she swung the door shut.

She was going to take a nap when she got home. Or maybe she would have a nice cup of herbal tea first. Or even a hot bubble bath... All she knew what that she wanted to relax before she dove into the extra credit assignment for Economics. Hermione impatiently tucked a lock of russet hair behind her right ear, and then shifted her book as she hopped down the school steps, her backpack bouncing uncomfortably because of the weight. Her mind was already at home, going through the myriad of herbal teas her mother kept stocked - when someone's hand latched onto her left shoulder. Hermione gasped and whirled, Advanced Chemistry swinging back in a defensive move and heard a sickening crack and a curse. Hermione's dark brown eyes, which for some reason had followed the glimmer of something falling, watched as drops of blood bloomed like obscene flowers on the pavement before her head shot back up.

And there he was. This time though, he wasn't rubbing his fists in his eyes. His long fingered hands were clutched protectively around what Hermione assumed was a broken nose, blood dripping from between the laced fingers. First, guilt washed over her in a tidal wave - so much she almost thought she was drowning - she was a walking disaster! But then outrage quickly followed.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione shouted it at him, even as she dug through her bag, looking for a the pack of tissues she usually kept. Triumphant, she pulled them from a pocket before ripping open the package and shoving them into his hands, which he uncurled just enough to get a grip on. He didn't speak, most likely trying to keep the steady flow from dripping onto him or his clothes, but he placed fingers on either side of his nose, the tissues held securely by his thumbs and pushed. A strange, crunching noise made Hermione feel slightly ill. _She had broken his nose_.

It was a moment more before he opened his eyes, blue, she quickly noted and gave her what she thought was a smile, but looked more like a grimace. "I wad here ta dee ya beau-tiful," he murmured, the words coming out a bit mangled. Beautiful sounded more like "bow-tiful". Hermione grimaced and took a step back, knowing that some of the surrounding students were still watching, or were moving so slow they may as well have stopped and stared. This was just what she needed. The stalker, whom she always injured and for all she knew, may well be masochistic. He blinked his eyes a few times, as if trying to adjust to the pain that he obviously felt, before focusing his attention back on her.

"Yes, well, you've seen me. Do I need to escort you back to the nurse, or will you be fine by yourself?" Hermione took a few steps backwards, hoping she would surprise him into the answer she wanted, but he only closed the distance she had created and winked. Winked? Had he really winked? Hermione stared at him with disbelief neatly written across her forehead. His blue eyes stared for a moment at her face and then went down her body and back up again, before he spoke.

"Iv looks cud kill, ya'd be a weapun ov madd dedtruction," he quipped. All expression left her face and Hermione turned and shot an angry stare at a freshman standing near by. The boy jumped and immediately began to walk away. More pick up lines? More pick up lines after she had _broken_ his nose? Hermione placed a hand on her forehead and held her other out in a 'stop' motion.

"I seem to be already. Sir, I suggest you leave - _now_. If you don't need help, I have no further reason to -" Hermione squeaked when he reached out and grabbed her hand and quickly yanked it out of his grasp, giving him an accusing look. He blinked, nearly as surprised as she was and gave a low chuckle.

"Ma name id Dabior - dammit-" He closed his eyes and blew his nose into the handful of tissues, shaking his head as if to clear the cobwebs from his brain. "Ma name id _Scabior_." His name came out clear this time, though Hermione showed no happiness from having learned it. He really was insane.  
>"I wad actually hopin' ya might agree ta - ta have dinner dome evenin'?" Even with a bloody nose and his eyes rapidly blackening, the look he gave her was full of intent. Intent that she didn't want - from him - ever.<p>

"You really are mad. I thought perhaps there might have been something wrong with you - no one - NO ONE - tries to compliment someone while running at them like a bull! And... not only have I pepper sprayed you, _I just broke your nose_ and you're asking me out on a - on a-" She seemed at a loss for words.

"Date," he happily supplied. If looks could kill, Scabior would have been a puddle of flesh on the ground.

"Not only have I injured you - _twice_," she murmured fiercely. "I am seventeen, I'm still in high school and you, Scabior, are not - you are not someone I would bring home to meet my parents." She said the words with venom, but it didn't seem to phase him. Scabior raised an eyebrow and tilted his head, but half of his expression was still hidden by the bloody tissues. Hermione inhaled deeply - ready to continue, but Scabior interjected before she could.

"Yeah, yeah, but oppodites attract, hm?" His smile was completely ruined by the dark swelling around his eyes.

Hermione wanted to scream. "Good. Bye." She timed her stomping feet to the words and turned away from him, all but running. Even walking as fast as she was, she could hear him calling out, letting the whole school hear as well, "I'll dee you later then, beau-tiful!" If she didn't need her Advanced Chemistry book she would have thrown it at him, in the hopes that it would put him out of his misery.

**A/N:** Is it just me, or did this chapter turn into a monster? Now... Is everyone interested in me making this an epic tale? (I enjoy Scabmione, but they really need lots and lots of time for anything to be even inclined to romance) Including as many of the characters as I can (of course with more than liberal helpings of Scabmione) or I can edit the outlines I have and continue with it being strictly on the amusing side - though it would be much, much shorter... Review and let me know?


	4. Gimme a Smile, Gimme a Sneer

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters mentioned below. This is just for fun, and I'm, obviously, not making any money off of it.

**Gimme a Smile, Gimme a Sneer**

It was three days before Scabior could see correctly. Three days of returning to the same bar, where everyone left him alone, save for the portly man who had showed up again last night and chortled until he choked. The man was fine in a matter of moments, but Scabior's anger had risen and he left before he decided to get into a fight and break some bones himself. Which, speaking of, his nose still hurt. Scabior closed his eyes, though not too tightly - the muscles were still tender - and opened them, focusing on the TV in his motel room. Hermione Granger _was_ a walking whirlwind, but - pepper spray and school books! Scabior threw his hands up in the air. His face hadn't been injured this much since, well, he didn't want to think about it. Sighing, he rubbed his forehead and sat down on the edge of his bed, his face still pleasantly warm from drinking alcohol. Well, his face had never been this injured in the pursuit of a woman, _any_ woman.

He really should lay down and sleep, but his mind was still wide awake. Besides, he didn't want to get the spins if he laid down before the booze settled in him. Scabior blinked his eyes again, taking small pleasure in the fact that they were no longer swollen and purple. True, there was still a deep red streak across his right eyelid and the rest of the skin around his eyes was an unhappy shade of puce, but it _was_ better. His eyes didn't look like black holes. Scabior smiled at the floor. He'd shown enormous restraint in keeping himself away from the high school. Though every other thought was urging him to go find Hermione Granger so he could get her to talk herself senseless so he could -... Could what? Scabior frowned. She was young and pretty and so appealing he ached... And she didn't like him. Not in the slightest. She hadn't said aloud what she must have been thinking. To a teenage girl, was he really old? He was only twenty-eight and he'd seen some of the looks the other girls had given him and _they_ hadn't looked angry. They also hadn't pepper sprayed him or broken his nose. And they also didn't have the same, sweet, maddening smell and dark eyes that he couldn't get out of his mind. Scabior shook his head, and judging his stomach to be settled, kicked off his boots and climbed into bed.

The sheets were cold and they were a welcome relief against the flush of warmth from the alcohol, but Scabior pulled up the thin comforter, knowing he would be cold before morning. He pulled out the bit of ribbon that kept his hair back from his face and finally laid back on the pillow, staring at the ceiling. So she'd rejected him. People changed their minds all the time. Scabior closed his eyes, but it was quite a while before he could fall asleep.

o0o

Though he had been rather sight impaired the last few days - Scabior hadn't been blind. He had noticed the group of teenagers watching Hermione as she first broke his nose, and then, in too many words, told him to go away. He didn't think it would be wise to sit out in that parking lot again, but he simply couldn't stop himself from getting out of the motel, or his thoughts turning to the young woman. Scabior purposely scuffed his boots as he walked, hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets, fiddling with the ring on his right hand. The weather was swiftly becoming icy and sometime soon he would have to pick up some warmer items of clothing. But for the moment, he would enjoy the cool weather. Scabior tilted back his head and took a deep breath, the cool air making his throat ache the slightest bit. He continued walking, past the super market and the high school and down towards what appeared to be a park on the edge of the woods.

There was the typical slides and swing set and an empty gazebo that had seen better days, with numerous park benches scattered around the premises. There were a few kids, bundled up tightly, playing on the equipment, their mothers huddling in the gazebo and chattering like hens. Scabior wrinkled his nose and took the stone path that wound around the slides and towards the trees, knowing that if he plopped down on one of the near by benches, he would be watched by the hen mothers. His feet carried him until he found himself stopping in front of a large oak, the branches curling outwards and hanging low. When he was a kid he would have scampered up it as fast as could be. Scabior smirked at the tree, and why not now? It was much easier than it would have been when he was a boy, he knew where to look for footholds and his legs were much longer. Once he'd climbed to a height where he could see anyone walking on the path in both directions, he settled back in the branches.

Scabior stretched and crossed his arms behind his head, one leg swinging off the sturdy branch, pleased with himself. He'd been sorely tempted - but he really needed to exercise some self restraint, and here he was, enjoying a bit of nature, instead of lying in wait for Hermione Granger. Far in the distance, the high school bell rang out, a shrill noise that made Scabior flinch. He would stay where he was and in an hour or so, head to the diner he'd seen about ten minutes walk from the super market. He'd pinched a wallet off of one of the wankers in the store that morning and, luckily, it had been a man who liked to keep cash about, instead of just those damn pieces of plastic.

Of course, people had those little pieces of plastic because of people like him. Scabior unconsciously patted the pocket the wallet was in and then lifted his head to look at the leaves above. Red, orange and gold leaves waved in the sunlight, like a cheap imitation of fire, which made him smile the slightest bit. It had been a while since he had made a foray into anything besides a city. Sometime soon it would be good to get away from it all - _crunch_.

Scabior's eyebrows drew together and he straightened, listening. It was still a ways off, but it sounded like someone was kicking through the dead leaves, coming this way. Hopefully it wasn't a kid. Kids were much more observant than teens or adults, who would never look up unless their life depended on it. Or they had been watching horror films. Kids though... Kids liked to explore and though he wasn't going to do anything to 'em, he didn't want to have his reverie interrupted. It was closer now, coming towards him from the park. Scabior leaned on the massive trunk of the tree, head tilted and his chest rising and falling, but otherwise completely still.

It was a few more moments before the person came into sight and of course, fate seemed to like to tease him. Hermione Granger, with a smile on her face and a single, _small_ book in her arms, was walking down the path, scuffling her feet around in the random piles of forest debris. A tenseness seized hold of Scabior and he leaned forward, drinking the sight of her in. His dark blue eyes darted back and forth - she was alone, and wasn't she just pretty? Jeans and tasteful shoes, a fleece jacket hugging her torso and a splash of bright color, in the form of a pink scarf. Her hair was down. Scabior's hand shook and he clenched it tight into a fist, his eyes following her like a hawk tracking it's prey. She walked beneath his hiding place, none the wiser and stopped a few feet away, her gaze focused intently on the ground.

Achingly slowly, Scabior began the climb down, the only noise a soft whisper of his clothing and the sudden ruffling of leaves as Hermione picked through them, magpie-like. He paused before he reached the ground, but decided he should make some noise to alert her of his presence, either way it would scare her. Scabior felt a smile curl his lips and he leaped down, boots thudding softly on the cement and spoke.  
>"'ello beautiful."<br>Hermione whirled and let out a short, sharp yell, dropping her book before her eyes focused on him and grew angry. She stomped her feet, slapping her arms down against her sides and glared. He may as well have appeared out of thin air.

"_Really? _Are you trying to make me call the police on you?" Hermione asked him, in a shrill voice. Scabior tilted his head to the side, lips pursed in consideration as he took a few steps forward. Hermione didn't move, but continued to try and kill him with her eye-daggers. He shrugged and raised a brow, sure that she would continue in a matter of moments. She didn't disappoint him.

"You're just a- just a glutton for punishment! Do you _like_ being beaten up? And-and why are you following me anyway? _I'm a teenager and you're stalking me!_" Hermione's voice rose another octave, but Scabior laughed and shook his head, his arms held out to either side.

"Stalkin' implies that there's a bit of forethought in followin' you. _You_ found me today," though she hadn't seemed to notice he had left out their other meetings. He took another step closer. "I was just enjoyin' myself here and then someone starts walkin' by-" Scabior imitated someone walking, holding out his hand and moving two of his fingers back and forth. Hermione kept her eyes on him, but knelt quickly to grab her book, not noticing her scarf slipping off of her shoulders. "Jus' wanted to say hi is all."

"Be that as it may, you seem to take an extraordinary amount of delight in not only scaring me, but having your face injured. I suggest you leave me alone - the past few days have been much more pleasant without a madman trying to give me compliments." Hermione tucked the book under her arm and brushed off her knees. Scabior's eyes widened momentarily, and he chuckled again and leaned his shoulder against a tree, crossing his arms over his chest. Hermione only spared him another irritated glance before she straightened and attempted to look down her nose at him, even with Scabior standing more than a head taller than her.

"Don't like compliments, I'm guessin'? Or," and Scabior couldn't stop his voice from taking on a sing-song quality - "ya don't like compliments unless they're from a certain _someone_." Hermione blinked and then huffed, turning her head away and letting her dark curls make a curtain between them. He could see that he had hit a sore point, and no doubt it was one of the boys in school with her. Scabior flicked a glance at the book under her arm, and could barely make out a name... Tennyson, it looked like. And when she had broken his nose, it had been - "Advanced Chemistry? That was the book you cracked me with, wasn'it?" Hermione turned her face back to him, the question written plainly on her face, though there was guilt there too.

"Well, yes - how on earth did you know the title? And why would care anyway?"

"I was rather _intimately_ introduced, hm? A bit hard to forget. You seem like a smart girl, beautiful," Scabior took another step closer, but this time Hermione stepped away. He continued to speak and move, wondering at how much this resembled some strange dance. "I've always been attracted to smart girls, especially ones," Scabior almost had her backed against a tree and he could see the anger burning in her eyes. He leaned forward, his pinky hooking a curl and breathed in. "Especially ones that smell so pretty," he finished and would have come closer, would have lifted the curl to his face and breathed in the scent of vanilla and skin because it was all he could think about - but Hermione slapped him.

Scabior sucked in air through his teeth, and straightened to his full height, gingerly touching his left cheek. It stung, but hadn't had her full force behind it. He barely kept his anger in check, because this time it hadn't been an accident. Scabior told himself he shouldn't have tried to push her, it was _his_ fault... The tension in his shoulders slowly leaked away, but his body was still humming with the need to lash out. Hermione looked as angry as ever.  
>"Now, that wasn't what a lady would do, was it?" Scabior asked and lowered his hand back down to his side. Hermione's hands were shaking, but her expression didn't change.<p>

"A lady wouldn't have to defend herself from a gentleman," she told him shakily, her lower lip giving a quiver. Scabior's eyes seemed to be glued to her mouth as he answered.

"Never said I was gentleman, beautiful." His gaze flicked back up to hers and he took a single step back. She was all sneers and no smiles today.

"I am going _home_. And you are not going to follow me. You are going to stay here and do - do something you _don't_ normally do, like leaving me alone." Hermione stepped away from the tree that had nearly trapped her and back onto the cement path. She shot him another glare and walked a few feet before looking over her shoulder, as if to make sure he hadn't moved from the spot he was in. She got another fifteen feet or so before she whirled, hands still shaking, but saw that he still hadn't moved.

Scabior was torn between being annoyed and laughing aloud. He would start to follow, as soon as she got out of sight. He had... a talent, for following, you might say. Hermione's back was rigid and Scabior silently wondered if she always stomped when she was angry. He could just barely spy her dark curls now in the distance and took a step forward, ready to follow after her, when his eye spotted something bright on the ground. He turned to where she had knelt, after having dropped her book, and spied the pink scarf she had been wearing. Extremely slowly, Scabior knelt down and drew it into his hands, rubbing the material between his rough fingers. It had a faint plaid pattern on it, pale pink and bits of white, the ends tasseled with smooth thread. Clenching his jaw, Scabior stood up and lifted the scarf to his face.

His chest expanded as he breathed in and held it, fingers clenching tightly in the material. With a sudden curse, Scabior whirled and punched the tree, though the blow was softened by the scarf still wrapped around his fingers. He _was_ insane, chasing after a teenager. Scabior's face was stoic as he turned away from the cement path, but he wrapped the scarf around his neck, his fingers clenching the tassels one more time... Before dropping his hands back down to his sides. The scarf was like torture, with her perfume lingering in the air, but he couldn't bring himself to leave it behind.

**A/N:** Thanks so much for those of you who are reviewing! They very much brighten my day.


	5. Girl with Graceful Charm

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters mentioned in this fanfiction. It's all in good fun, with no profit being made.

**Girl with Graceful Charm**

Between his harassment on her way home from school two days ago, and seeing him today on her lunch break, Hermione couldn't decide which she would rather deal with. Scabior was a creep, with his leers and strange... Hermione hesitated to use the word "obsession", because if she did, it would make it all the more real. She was absolutely sure that he hadn't followed her home yet - no doubt he would have tried to introduce himself to her parents - but it was only a matter of time. At least, if things were going the way she thought they were. He had _said_ that he hadn't been following her, that day in the park, but Hermione didn't trust him. And then today... Harry, Ron and herself had left the school during lunch, they were Seniors and thus were allowed to go off campus and had stopped in the local Mom n' Pop diner for burgers.

Hermione hadn't thought anything of it, after all, the boys wanted to come in at least twice a week... And then she had noticed someone watching them from a booth as they ordered their food to go. Curious, Hermione had tucked her hair behind her ear and turned - to meet Scabior's dark blue eyes. The bruising from his broken nose was all but gone, though it looked like he was wearing - was it eyeliner? Eyeshadow? Hermione had been momentarily surprised and hadn't glared at him straight-away. That had been her first mistake. A saucy smirk bloomed on his lips, one of his eyebrows raising in what many women would believe a charming manner. Hermione would have wanted the satisfaction of slapping the look off of his face, but she had seen the anger in his eyes when last he had been slapped. That look in his eyes had been almost beyond frightening. Instead, Hermione had whirled back to Ron and Harry, hands clenched into fists at her sides, ignoring him. That had been her second mistake.

She had hoped that Scabior would let her be, that he wouldn't draw attention to himself, or to her. Unless he really was rude, Harry wouldn't say anything - but Ron's temper would urge him into a fight with the older man in a matter of moments. Hermione twisted her fingers and ordered, barely listening to Ron and Harry's chatter about sports. The only signal she had was the scraping sound of a chair being pushed back.

"Afternoon, beautiful. Enjoyin' yer day?" Scabior was suddenly leaning against the counter, though he was still separated from her by Harry. The two young men turned to look at Scabior, confused. Ron mouthed 'beautiful?' which only served to light the wick of Hermione's temper. She sniffed, as if she hadn't heard Scabior, or seen Ron and paid for her things before she finally acknowledged the older man.

"Hm? Oh, it's you. Why, yes I am. It's been rather quiet and I've had ample time to study." Hermione put her wallet away in the small handbag she had with her and then turned on her heel to go wait in a booth on the opposite side of the diner. She could see out of the corner of her eye that both Harry and Ron were exchanging looks, wondering what on earth was happening, but Scabior ignored them. He walked straight past the boys and towards Hermione, a swagger obvious in his step. Hermione laced her fingers and placed her hands on the table in front of her, turning her head to look out the window, in the opposite direction of Scabior. She knew it was irritating him, something about the way he was lingering seemed to hint that he wanted her to know something. Hermione wasn't about to give him the satisfaction. Scabior placed his hands on the table, his faint tan contrasting very sharply against the pale blue and leaned forward slightly.

"I know we've had our differences, lovely, but yer not willin' to be civil, at the very least?" The only sign that she had heard him was the tensing of her hands on the table. Harry and Ron had followed by now and of course, it was Harry who was the first to speak, Ron was becoming suspicious.

"Uh, hello there. I'm Harry. Are you a friend of Hermione's?" Being cordial, Harry held out a hand, but Scabior only spared him the shortest glance, ignoring Ron completely, before he spoke to Hermione again.

"Well then, I see how 'tis, beautiful. Don't worry, you'll be hearin' from me again soon." Scabior rapped a knuckle smartly on the table and whirled to leave the diner, his coat smacking Ron in the chest.

"What was his problem?" Ron muttered, his eyes still following Scabior through the window. Hermione finally turned her attention back to her friends, and she could see the questions in Harry's eyes, so she quickly stood up. Ron jumped back a step, as he had been about to sit down next to her.

"Sorry Ron, but our food is ready. We should probably head back to the school before it gets any later." Hermione hurried to the counter, grabbed her things and was the first out of the door, avoiding the talk she knew Harry, and Ron, would want to have.

o0o

Hermione had hurried through lunch, picking at her food, more than eating it and then throwing out an excuse about studying. She fled the cafeteria and headed towards the library, her place of refuge. She knew that if Harry really thought he needed to, he could find her here, but it was also rare that Hermione kept anything from her two best friends. Harry would leave her alone, for now. The bushy haired young woman sat at her favorite table - it was rarely occupied - and pulled out one of her few recreational books. She had barely begun to read when a soft sigh reached her ears and she turned to see Ginny standing not too far away, her arms crossed over her chest. Luna stood beside her, but her eyes were glued to the upside-down Alien magazine she held in her hands.

"Really, 'Mione? Harry told me you were really keyed up about something, and he was right. I can see it written all over your face." Ginny slid into an empty seat, but before she could continue talking, Luna spoke.

"As much as I would like to offer my input on your problems, I very much doubt you would appreciate it, Hermione. I'm going to go see if Colin has caught any new pictures of the ghost in the ladies room." Luna closed her magazine and tucked it under her arm, leaving the library. Ginny turned back to Hermione and raised her eyebrows in expectation, but Hermione tried to put it off.

"I really wish Luna wouldn't do that. It's been ages since we've... Since we've had a disagreement." Hermione wanted to avoid Ginny's gaze - the redhead always had a way of finding out what she wanted to know. Most likely a side effect from being the only girl and having so many brothers. Ginny rolled her eyes, but turned the topic back to what she had come to discuss.

"Harry told me he thought it was because of a strange man that was talking to you in the diner. Is this strange man the same one you pepper sprayed? And..." Ginny paused and now she looked a bit sheepish as she brought up the _other_ meeting Hermione had with Scabior. "Well, and the same one whose nose you broke?" Hermione leaned back in her chair, her hands the only thing on the table, and pursed her lips. She didn't _want_ to think about any of this. The man was bad news. But she may as well tell someone, and Ginny wouldn't share it with Harry or, heaven forbid, Ron.

"Yes. The very same, who also jumped out of the trees on my walk home and scared me half to death two days ago. And then he tried to - I swear he was going to _smell_ me. And now today," Hermione sighed. She closed her toffee colored eyes and gave a small shake of her head. "I didn't know he was there, of course. Harry and Ron ordered their things and then I realize someone is watching us - and there he was. I was still irritated about, well, about all of it. _He asked me on a date after I broke his nose_," Hermione shared in a scathing tone. She threw her hands up into the air. Ginny made a non-committal noise, but Hermione had just begun.

"Of course I told him no, and then he begins to show up everywhere! I accused him of stalking me after he jumped out of that tree, but he told me stalking took premeditation, he just _happened_ to sitting there when I walked by." Hermione quietly scoffed, while Ginny leaned her elbows on the table, eyebrows drawn together as she considered a way to answer her friend - without offending her.

"You know, 'Mione, most any other girl would probably be flattered to have a handsome, older man's attention. **Wait**, wait, just listen. He's most likely used to it. Maybe if you - don't give me that look, I haven't finished. Maybe if you were a bit more cordial, more... I don't know, appreciative of the way he seems to be interested, he might back off a bit. A challenge is always more appealing," Ginny whispered the last conspiratorially and Hermione actually thought about her words before she flat out refused. Ginny did have a point - most people wanted what they couldn't have, and if they thought they could have it, the object or person lost the appeal...

"But, Ginny, we're talking about a man who has questionable motives, that all point to - to - it just wouldn't be a good idea. I don't want him to be encouraged in any way, shape or form, if I can help it." Hermione gave another resolute shake of her head. "I don't like that he's waited for me at school, _twice now_ and just happens to be at places that I frequent." Ginny spread her hands helplessly in answer and Hermione shrugged in return. Other than the one moment in the park though, Hermione had been mostly annoyed with Scabior. She didn't do well with male attention as it was, and of course, the one boy she _was_ interested in was absolutely oblivious. But before the moment in the park, he hadn't been truly _frightening_. Now she couldn't seem to get rid of the twinge between her shoulder blades.

Before either of the girls could speak again, the bell rang. Hermione happily dove back into academics.

o0o

It was in Hermione's free period, that another complication was added to her list of thoughts. Mr. Flitwick had left the room for a few moments and nearly all of the students, excluding Hermione, had begun to chatter or move about the room. Pansy Parkinson was sitting on the windowsill, speaking to Gregory Goyle and Blaise Zabini, and speaking so fast that the Gregory looked like he was at a complete loss. It was Pansy that had a wonderful view of the schools parking lot, and of course, Pansy who began to admire someone that seemed to be out there. Her dark eyes were focused intently on them, even as she turned her head to continue speaking to her companions.

"Would you look at him! I wonder if he's someones older brother and he _totally_ has the bad boy vibe going on-" Pansy may as well have pressed her face against the glass, her breath was fogging it up enough. Hermione hadn't been paying the girl much attention, after all, they didn't get along, but slowly, Hermione put down her pencil. Her eyes were still focused on the book in front of her, looking over the same calculus problem continually as she tilted her head to listen to Pansy and Blaise.

"Well, I haven't seen anyone around school that resembles him... What do you think, Blaise? Do you recognize him?" The thin black boy rolled his eyes, he probably couldn't care less about whether he knew the man or not, but to avoid confrontation with Pansy - quite a few people feigned interest. He stood and peered out the window for less than a second before letting loose a dignified chuckle.

"Oh, yes. I've seen him before, Pansy," Blaise suddenly leaned close to the dark haired girl and his voice was low, but Hermione was just barely close enough to hear him.

"Granger broke his nose a while back. And that was _before_ he asked her out on a date, he seemed extremely interested." Hermione turned her head just a little bit, flicking her eyes up to Blaise to see a smirk growing on his lips. Dreading what would undoubtedly come next, Hermione bent her head back to her calculus book, tapping her pencil rapidly against the sheet of paper she had out.

"_Granger?_" Pansy shrieked and Hermione couldn't help but clench her fists. She lifted her head, since everyone else in the room had heard, she may as well respond, and turned to look at Pansy. Hermione tried to give the girl a pleasant smile, even though she knew she would get a sneer in return.

"Yes, Parkinson?" Hermione congratulated herself, she sounded mostly polite, though the name Parkinson seemed to make her a bit tense when she said it. Pansy was giving Hermione a once-over, as if she couldn't quite wrap her head around a man, _any man_, ever being interested in Hermione Granger. Hermione waited another beat before she lifted her hand and gave Pansy a little wave, trying to break her gaze.

"Are you paying him, Granger? He looks like he's in a band and surely someone with _taste_ and good looks wouldn't waste time with you unless - well," Pansy gestured to Hermione again and gave a little shrug, as if to say 'what could you do?' Rage bubbled over in Hermione, but she decided to play a little dumb.

"Still sour over Viktor, Parkinson? I thought that was years behind us. But as to this _him_ you're speaking of, I have no idea what you're talking about." With a few quick pencil strokes, Hermione finished the calculus problem in front of her and then turned her attention back to the black haired girl who looked to be seething with rage.

"Krum was never worth _my _attention, Granger. I was talking about this new conquest you seem to have, the one that you injured? Maybe you're blackmailing him?" Pansy regained a little bit of her cool and flicked her hair over her shoulder, sharing a laugh with Gregory. Blaise was leaning against the wall now, but wasn't interjecting, he preferred to be on the sidelines. Exasperated, Hermione rose and quickly looked out the window. Sure enough, Scabior was sitting on the very edge of the parking lot. Far enough from the entrance that unless the teachers were staring outside, they most likely wouldn't notice him. His hair was pulled back in his typical low ponytail, the rest a riotous mass of snarls, but his pants were black today, which Hermione hadn't noticed in the diner. Hermione couldn't make out many more details than that.

"Likely would be the only way you could snatch a man," Pansy taunted, raising a single, overly plucked eyebrow. And then, Hermione let her temper get the best of her. Most likely she would have shrugged off Scabior's appearance, she could have thought of _something_... Maybe he was a local college student, needing tutoring, because Hermione had done that before. She could have told the truth, as unlikely as Pansy would find it - anything would have been better than what she found herself saying.

"My _boyfriend_ enjoys my company because of who I am, no matter that _you_ seem to find me so distasteful," and Hermione wanted to slap herself. What had she done? _What had she done?_ It would be all of ten minutes before the class, and the day, ended and then, her life would be over. Pansy was the **Queen** of gossip and the rumor that she was dating an older man would spread like wildfire. Oh no, oh no, ohnoohnoohnoohno... And she had said it in front of more than just Pansy. Blaise and Gregory and a myriad of other students. Hermione was about to take the words back, even if it meant that she had to embarrass herself in front of Pansy Parkinson, who looked livid, but Mr. Flitwick hurried back into the classroom.

"Back to your seats, back to your seats!" His voice squeaked as he toddled up the row of desks, waving either hand. Everyone quieted, though Hermione could feel eyes on her, and slowly went back to their desks. Hermione seriously thought about slamming her head on the desk repeatedly, maybe then they would think she was insane and leave everything unsaid... The bell rang and Mr. Flitwick, smiling, sent them off. Hermione had to get to Ron and Harry, had to get to them before Pansy shot off her mouth and ruined her life - Hermione hurriedly stashed her things in her bag and ran as fast as she could. She found both of the boys in front of Harry's locker, discussing the Canons - before she interrupted.

"I made a huge mistake! In study hall, Pansy riled me up terribly, and - and I didn't think and I told her that he was my boyfriend!" Harry blinked in confusion and Ron's jaw dropped. He hadn't seemed to hear anything besides the word _boyfriend_.

"You're... dating someone?" He spoke first and Harry's eyes flicked to him, giving the redhead a strange look, almost like 'you didn't hear anything, did you?'

"NO," Hermione told him forcefully, her cheeks flushing red and Ron's look of panic disappeared in a snap.

"Oh, well then, what were you saying? I didn't hear well." Hermione's nose wrinkled. Sometimes she couldn't believe Ronald, even though she - Hermione sighed and repeated herself.

"-and that man she was talking about is the one we saw today in the diner. I really don't know, or like him, but I had to come and tell you two before - before she ruined my life," Hermione's voice dropped a few octaves. They had been walking as she hurriedly tried to explain everything to them and had come to the bottom of the stairs near the parking lot. Hermione could see Pansy Parkinson, hands on her hips, questioning Scabior near the low rock wall he had been sitting on before.

"Oh no," Hermione whispered and both the boys looked at her worriedly. Scabior had looked momentarily surprised, but then his face had lit up as if someone had given him a present. He gave Pansy a nonchalant shrug and then nodded his head, a knowing smile on his lips. Hermione knew what he was agreeing to - which would save her face with Pansy - but meant that she now had to deal with more unpleasantness from Scabior himself.

"Just, just let me take care of this, alright?" Hermione tossed over her shoulder as she strode towards Scabior and Pansy. Ron was about to call her back, but Harry stopped him, shaking his head.

"Hermione can handle herself, Ron. I would rather stay out of her way, especially when it comes to all this... Pansy non-sense." Ron frowned, as if he were really mulling over the words, but finally nodded. He didn't really want to involve himself in girl problems - and Hermione had already told them that she _wasn't_ dating the creep, so there was nothing to worry about. Ron reluctantly let Harry lead him away, though if he heard anything about the man bothering Hermione again he would intervene another day.

Scabior had seemed to realize that someone was heading towards him and Hermione wanted to grimace when he caught sight of her and gave her one of those... _charming_ leers. She forced herself not to frown, but didn't give him a smile as she walked up to the pair. Scabior reached out and expertly slipped his arm around her, tucking her against his body in a hug that was _much_ too close. Hermione gasped, and could barely hear Pansy's frustrated growl before she walked away. Hermione immediately began to untangle herself from Scabior's arms, her cheeks heated and her teeth clenched.

"Oi, what's the problem, lovely? I was just kindly alerted to the fact that you and I are datin'. Thought you would like an embrace from your paramour," and Scabior wiggled his eyebrows, which made Hermione's stomach give a little strange flip. She hurriedly backed up, if she was about to be sick at the thought of them together, she didn't want to be sick **on** him, no matter how much he deserved it.

"Ms. Parkinson is about as infuriating as you are and she twisted my words-" Scabior stopped Hermione's flat out lie by unconsciously patting his chest, as if he were searching for something, which made Hermione notice what he was wearing. Her scarf. The scarf she had forgotten all about when he had scared her in the park. A little shudder ran through her, knowing that he was the one who had been in possession of it all this time. If he was as... unstable, as she had thought, surely it was bad thing. Hermione took a deep breath and then shook her head.

"Why - why on earth are you wearing my scarf?" Hermione questioned in a bland voice. Scabior blinked and tilted his head, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of a hidden pocket in the chest of his jacket. He seemed surprised by her question for a moment, and attempted to cover it by pulling out a cigarette.  
>"You're not allowed to smoke on school grounds," Hermione snapped out quickly. Scabior chuckled and placed a black cigarette between his lips, but didn't light it.<p>

"As for yer scarf, finders keepers, eh beautiful?" Scabior shoved his hand into another pocket, rummaging through whatever he kept with him, which made Hermione inexplicably more annoyed than she already was.

"I can't believe this is happening," Hermione murmured and shook her head before whirling to walk away. She got about ten steps before she realized that Scabior was keeping pace with her and had lit the fragrant cigarette. Disgust made her nose wrinkle as she caught the smell of the smoke, though it wasn't nearly as bad as she had thought it would be.

"No," Hermione told him, pointing at him like he was a domestic animal in trouble. Scabior raised an eyebrow and blew out a puff of smoke, pinching the cigarette between his thumb and forefinger of his right hand for a moment to take it away from his mouth.

"No, what?" He asked, imitating the annoyed tone she usually had when speaking with him. His blue eyes sparkled with mischief before he took a small drag, as if he had no idea what she was talking about. Hermione gaped at him like a fish out of water while he blew a tiny smoke ring to his left.

"No, you are not allowed to smoke on school grounds. No, no matter what Pansy thinks, you are _not_ my boyfriend and _no_, you are not going to follow me. Anywhere," she finished with a hiss, hands clenched at her sides. Scabior chuckled again and took another drag, looking away as he held the air in his lungs. He blew the smoke out away from her before he turned back to talk.

"Why don't we talk a bit, hm, lovely? Just a few words won' hurt anythin'," he assured her and gestured to the smooth sidewalk in front of them. Hermione still looked angry, her eyes narrowed and her body tense, but she nodded after a moment. He could feel his lips curling upwards in a smile and he coughed to try and hide it.

"Alright then, that sure is progress! Would ya like to hear me out, maybe?" Scabior asked, sticking his left hand in his pocket to keep warm. Hermione didn't walk away, and she didn't snap at him, so he figured he had permission to go on.

"I dunno why yer so opposed to a bit of attention, eh? But each to their own, I suppose. What I want to know though, is if you'll give me a chance," Scabior noted the fearful look in her eyes and stopped. He reached out, trying to touch one of her curls and she skittered out of the way. The single, unwanted, hug he had gotten had seemed to be the only thing he _would_ get. How sweet it had been though, with her warmth and scent pressed up against him... Scabior narrowed his blue eyes, and plowed on with what he wanted to say, trying to get his mind off of the feeling of her body touching his. It would only lead to places that Scabior didn't need to consider in the least, especially when the girl was so dead set against even talking to him.

"It'd only be fair, yeah? Just get to know me a bit before you outright reject someone, and if, after you know me..." Scabior shrugged, as if to say it would all be up to her. Hermione looked intrigued and then turned away from him, staring at some of the far off trees, her lips thin on her face. She knew it was a bad idea, she knew that somehow... Something was going to go wrong. Her toffee eyes gave him a sidelong glance. If it worked out though, if she was able to send him on his way, because Hermione already knew she didn't like him, then she would be free of irritation. And, she would be able to save face with Pansy. Hermione suddenly wanted to laugh. She could even go to Pansy and tell her to have at it, because there was no way anything would ever make her change her mind about Scabior. Not all the time in the world.

"That would be it? If I spend a few days in your company, and I still don't like you, you will stop harassing me? And give me my scarf back?" Hermione tacked the last on as an afterthought, but Scabior scowled.

"The scarf is mine. But we have a deal?" Scabior held out his hand, the stag ring glimmering in the afternoon sunlight. Hermione watched him closely, her eyes flicking to his hand. That would be it? That was all it took? Hermione's slim, pale hand raised slowly... She hesitated for a moment, his blue eyes catching her gaze and a shiver went down her back, like a last warning. She placed her small hand in Scabior's warm, tan one and shook. She felt like she was sealing a deal with the devil.

**A/N:** This chapter didn't want to stop, and from here on out, they will most likely get longer as the actual plot comes through. I don't want huge notes here, but I will be leaving review responses in my profile (or on tumblr, if you've found me there! Though, unless your username is the same, you'll have to alert me as to who you are.)


	6. Shine This Bright

**Disclaimer:** This is all for fun and I do not own any characters or author names mentioned below. No profit is being made from my fanfiction.

**Shine This Bright**

Humans can be very much like magpies. If something glimmers and shines, they want it. Sometimes it's something small, like a stone or a pretty piece of nature, or maybe it's a golden ring... Sometimes it can be a person. Some people don't understand that you can't keep a person, not like a ring or a piece of weathered glass. But it doesn't stop them from trying. They either will give up, or learn the hard way.

o0o

All that mattered was that she had agreed with him. Scabior could still feel the cool touch of her pale hand, how well her slim fingers felt as they curled around his palm. He could still see her eyes, lit with the smallest tinge of gold as she considered his words, her lips pressed thin in a small gesture of displeasure. He was lucky. The circumstances were completely different from... that time, and because of that, Scabior told himself that it would all be alright. This time, it would be different. He was the seducer, if you could, even laughingly, call it that. Hermione Granger wanted nothing to do with him, and Scabior knew it. But he was selfish and he would keep true to his words - even the ones he had declined to share, maybe, especially the ones he had declined to share.

He straightened his jacket, and gave himself a quick glance in the mirror. His hair was a nest of snarls, but clean and the last remnants of bruising were hidden behind a bit of black shadow, not that he would ever admit to it. He'd foregone the waistcoat today - it was torn and needed mending, but he hadn't the time. Scabior turned away from the mirror, he didn't like to dwell on his appearance when he was nervous. And with a small sigh, he realized he really was nervous, no matter that everything was completely different. Scabior momentarily wondered if he would ever get over it. He sighed and grabbed his jacket, slipping it on in a quick, practiced turn and patting the pockets. He removed the cigarettes and lighter - he was usually a social smoker, and he wanted to stay that way. If he kept them, he would want to smoke because he was nervous, it would give his hands something to do.

Hermione wouldn't like that, and the majority of his brain was making decisions based on how he thought she would react to them. Finally, rolling his blue eyes at his own stupid thoughts, Scabior grabbed the pink scarf and went out the door, winding the material around his neck in a loose knot. Being serious with only himself for company was becoming annoying. He picked up the pace as he headed towards the school.

By the time he strolled into the parking lot, the bell had already ringed. Students were still making their way to cars, or to their rides, drifting about in clumps of twos and threes. He settled comfortably on part of the wall near the stairs and waited. She had agreed to spend time with him, but most days Hermione was caught up with something in the library, or so she had said. Scabior had wondered if it was a ploy to get him to show up too late and decided not to take the chance. While it was true, that first day, when she had pepper sprayed him, she had been coming out of the library... Scabior shook his head again. Did it really matter? He was here and he was waiting. He people watched, trying to occupy his mind.

Not too far in front of him was a blonde girl, her eyes a bit vacant, while a slightly pudgy boy stood next to her, smiling like a fool. Her shirt looked like it said something along the lines of 'I Believe', but Scabior couldn't spy the rest. She stopped staring towards the school field, almost blinking herself out of a trance and then smiled at the boy, slipping her hand into his before they walked away. Scabior raised an eyebrow because he was sure, even now, that he recognized a couple that was most likely ostracized from their fellow students.

A group of girls walked by, twins, one dressed in red and the other in blue, leading the pack of them. Nearly all of them were giggling and whispering to each other. Scabior was very happy he was no longer in high school.

To his left, there was a small group of students who were beginning to talk a little bit louder than normal, as if they wanted everyone around them to hear what they were saying. Raising an eyebrow at the antics of teenagers, Scabior tilted his head, listening, even as he noted who was in the group. There was that girl - Parkins? Perkins? It was the same one who had come up to him, demanding to know if he was dating Hermione Granger. Her nose looked like it was permanently wrinkled, as if she were always displeased with something. There were two boys who looked like they didn't have an ounce of brain between them. One was tall, the other short and squat, but both had beefy arms and vacant looks on their faces. And the one talking, his white-blond hair a beacon shining in the afternoon light, mentioned Granger. Intrigued, Scabior hopped down from the wall and moved a few paces closer.

"-the school board should come in and take her down a peg or two. Can't stand the girl! Little Miss-know-it-all, always showing off in class. The only reason she has the highest marks is because she never gives anyone else a chance to say a thing. At least Mr. Snape always accounts for her pig-headedness." The boy was a quick speaker and Scabior wondered, with a silent laugh, if his friends always let him carry on like a melodramatic villain. But as he watched, he found out that that was almost exactly the case. None of the other teens even appeared to be annoyed, which means they either weren't listening - or agreed with him. He frowned and turned his blue eyes away, but stayed where he was to keep eavesdropping.

"I say she needs to be pranked a few times before Graduation this year. What do you say? We could take a couple hints from the movie Carrie maybe. Wonder what Granger would do if she was drenched in pigs blood-" Before the boy could continue, Scabior found himself moving. He saw the Perkins girl see him, eyes wide and her jaw dropped, but the other boys didn't notice anything until he placed a firm hand on the blonde boys shoulder.

"She would most likely cry and tell me about it - in which case, you're standin' on thin ice, boy," Scabior snarled in a low voice. The boy jumped and whirled about, pulling his shoulder free from Scabior's grasp.

"Who do you think you are?" The boy shouted in a thin, wavering voice, his face flickering uncertainly between anger and fear. The Perkins girl interjected, one of her hands reaching to pull the boy closer to her.

"Draco, that's Granger's boyfriend," she mock-whispered, which seemed to give the boy a bit more backbone.

"Granger? Well, she would only be able to find someone who may as well be a bum. What's she doing? Paying you so you can buy some new clothes?" Draco shared a laugh with one of the boys, but before Scabior had the chance to react, the boy continued on, as if he hadn't dug himself a hole already. "Oh, but that's right, I doubt Granger's family has the money to afford to help someone else. They're always pouring a bit into the Weasley travesty - which means what? Is she feeding you?" Scabior had had enough, he reached out, quick as lightning and twisted a hand into the boys designer shirt, lifting him an inch or two off of the ground. Shock filled the boys gray eyes, his hands immediately shooting up to grab onto the arm holding him.

"Listen here, you little rat - didn't your mummy ever tell you that if you don't have anythin' nice to say, don't say anythin' at all? You prank Granger, you even think about bullyin' a woman who should just step on a cockroach like you-" Scabior dropped him and Draco fell back into his friends, just barely keeping his feet. "You'll have to answer to Scabior, and believe you me, I ain't afraid to go back to jail." Draco straightened, his hands quivering and fear written all over his features and tried to push his friends out of the way, but not before he shot off one last thing over his shoulder.

"My father will hear about this!"

Scabior watched the boy and his friends depart, dispassionately, his back to the stairs and to whomever was watching. He inhaled deeply and for a moment felt a strong sense of pride fill him. He'd always been bullied back in school, especially by people like that kid, and it felt good to put a little fear into someone who so obviously deserved it. Someone cleared their throat behind him and Scabior jumped, his heart falling into his stomach as he whirled - only to see Hermione standing at the top of the stairs, a strange look written on her features. His shoulders drooped in relief, for a moment he had thought it had been a teacher, of heaven forbid, a cop.

"While that was very... Chivalrous of you, defending my honor and all, you really shouldn't bait Draco Malfoy. When he tells his father, and I have no doubt he will, the man will try and bring hell down upon your head." The strange look left her face and Scabior wondered if it was because she was worried for him, or if it was because she had just gave him, however small, a compliment. Scabior gave her a half smile and shrugged, nearly all thoughts of the pitiful blond leaving his head.

"Nothin' new, havin' someone dislike me. I seem to have that effect on people," Scabior murmured, though he was still giving her that small half smile. Hermiones eyebrows drew together and she looked away, as if she felt uncomfortable, which, Scabior reminded himself, she most likely did. His smile faded away, but he made himself straighten and he gave a little cough, waiting for her to continue down the stairs. After a few moments, she did, her tennis shoes a soft patter against the cement, and began walking at a slow pace, arms wrapped around one of her textbooks. Scabior trotted for a moment, catching up with her and glanced at the book, letting out a startled laugh.

"You didn't bring that as a weapon, did you?" He motioned towards Advanced Chemistry, a small wince the only sign that he really meant what he was saying. Hermione's cheeks turned the very lightest shade of pink.

"No, I did not bring it as a weapon. But thank you very much for reminding me. If you decide to get out of hand, I'll know what to use." Hermione's eyes rolled quickly before she turned her face away from him again. She wasn't very comfortable around him, she was much more used to their quick, tense meetings, where she ended up storming off. Staying in his company was... Odd. They walked in silence for a moment, Scabior's hands in his pockets, glancing at her every so often, before he realized they weren't walking towards the park.

"I'm not walkin' you home?" Scabior suddenly asked, not realizing that it would be taken personally.

"Of course not," she told him in a scandalized voice. Her head had whirled back to look at him, her fly-away curls being teased by the wind of her movement. Both of Scabior's eyebrows rose and slipped his hands out of his jacket, as if to show that he didn't have any weapons on him. "I agreed to spend time with you, but there is no way that we would be spending that time in my home."

"Alright, I get it! I just, didn't know where we were headin'." Scabior gestured to the sidewalk in front of them. He knew the dives in this town, of course. That was where people like him thrived. The bars, the motels and the casino, a few miles out. He knew where the cheap food places were, the best places to pick pockets... But the "dates" he had, he usually ended up meeting in those same dives and he had not thought about actually - about taking Hermione on an actual date. At least, not today. Hermione still looked scandalized, as if she had read his thoughts about the date idea.

"Oh. Well, I had wanted to go to the bookstore today actually, and seeing as..." Hermione trailed off, one of her hands moving her fingers in a rippling motion, as if she had no words for their situation. "But of course, you don't have to accompany me," she hinted, her dark eyes flashing away from him again. Scabior wondered if she wanted him to accept that offer. Had she decided on the place in hopes that he would turn tail? Figuratively, Scabior dug his heels into the situation, though his smile looked like the farce it was.

"Sounds just fine to me, beautiful. Are you lookin' for anythin' in particular?" Hermione turned back to him, toffee eyes calculating, but gave a small shrug of her shoulder.

"I enjoy reading as a past time, besides the reading I do for school, though I enjoy that too. Honestly, I fear some of the workers at the store get a bit annoyed with my questions and asking for opinions." Hermione's lips twisted in a wry smile, as if she couldn't quite believe herself. "I enjoy knowledge," she said firmly, though she tilted her head as if she were mulling over her words.

The walk to the book store wasn't actually a long one, but was made so by the awkward pauses in conversation. Scabior didn't want to push her to talk about herself and Hermione felt that she didn't want to know about his personal life. The sound of the tinkling bell on the bookstore door was a relief to the both of them. She hurried off, nearly skipping, to the Mystery section first, while Scabior hesitated next to Horror. He watched her, quietly and a tremor went through his arms and down to his hands as he breathed in, catching the scent of her both because of her recent proximity and the scarf he still wore. Trying to shake out his hands, he brushed some hair out of his eyes and looked at one of the shelves he was leaning on, spotting the name Stephen King on one of the book spines.

His mind flashed back to the Malfoy boy and the threats about taking notes from the Carrie film. Scabior was frowning as he made his way into Mystery, leaning on a shelf next to Hermione, his elbow tilting a couple of books. Hermione spared him a quick glance, but attempted to go back to browsing before he spoke.

"Malfoy, was it? What has the boy got against ya that he wanted to take notes from a horrid thing like Carrie?" Scabior wrinkled his nose at the thought and he saw Hermione blink in astonishment. Maybe she hadn't heard that part? Hermione stood, her lips thin as she considered his words.

"I confess, I didn't know that he had said anything of the sort. We don't- we don't get along. He is intelligent, but he puts more stock in the fact that his father has money and he can get away with nearly anything in this town. And it's only nearly, because our Principal, Dumbledore, won't stand for it. We would be neck and neck for head of the class, if he would put just a little bit more effort into school... Malfoy has never liked me. Mostly because I'm friends with Harry, actually, but everything I told you is a contributing factor." Hermione slipped a brightly colored orange book back onto the shelf, beginning to walk away. Scabior followed at a steady pace, still frowning. The kid was a rotten apple if he got so worked up about things... But Scabior felt he didn't have much room to say anything. He had never been top, or even near the top of his class and his family was also not wealthy. The situation would have been foreign to him, when he was in school.

"Kid sounded like a monster, if you ask me," Scabior muttered, glancing at the sign above them that read Mythology, Fables and Folklore. Warming to the subject of the rude boy, Hermione continued on with his bad faults.

"Indeed. He's also always picked on our friend Neville quite a bit. Neville has a good heart and has never given Malfoy a reason to be cruel, but he does have the worst luck." Hermione's eyes brightened as she slipped a very large, hardback folklore book off of a shelf, flipping idly through the pages. "Absolute horrid pranks. When we were freshman Malfoy locked Neville in an old, rickety locker. It might not have been quite as bad, but they were renovating that area of the school and no one was around to see it. Neville was in there for hours before Mrs. McGonagall found him. If Malfoys father wasn't on the school board, I'm sure he would have been expelled." Hermione shook her head, disliking the thought, and the book apparently. She quickly slid the thick volume back where it belonged.

"So the boy is gettin' a free ride because his father has good social standin'," Scabior determined. Hermione quickly nodded her head in agreement, but gave a shrug when Scabior let out a disapproving noise.

"This is usually the way things work though, isn't it?" Hermione murmured. "Those who deserve to be better off, or are working hard for what they have, end up losing it all, or never having it in the first place." Scabior was about to reply, when he noticed how calm she was. The conversation, something that, while at first might have pertained to her, now had nothing to do with the both of them. Not really. They had found a common ground in which Hermione was comfortable debating, and he could sense that she did this often. Scabior felt his lips twitch, and just barely held back the smile in time, because she focused her eyes on him, as if she had recalled whom she was speaking with. The tension entered her face again, and Scabior wanted to sigh. Having already lost the casual feeling, he pushed on ahead with his original reason for bringing the boy up.

"Do you really think he would do somethin' that cruel to ya?"

The silence was the only answer that Scabior needed. The next time he saw the kid, he would give him another piece of his mind. Even Scabior had been raised better than that, which made him wonder how the kids life was at home, if he thought it was okay to prank girls in such a horrid way. Scabior grumbled quietly as he flipped through a mythology book, the Greek names only added to his irritation. He couldn't pronounce any of this. Scabior laid it back down before looking at Hermione again, his blue eyes serious.

"If he does somethin', tell me. I'll take care of it." It Hermione had been a furred creature, her hair would have bristled. She stood up and returned Scabiors gaze, balancing her Advanced Chemistry book between her hip and her palm.

"Once again, Scabior, thank you for your attempted chivalry, but one: I really can take care of myself. Two: Do you really think that would make my situation with him any better? It won't. He can bully me all he wants, but I'm not going to stoop to his level and find someone else to take care of my problems. And let me remind you, the Malfoys have influence. If Mr. Malfoy hears that you were threatening his son, he will not hesitate to do something about it. If it happens more than once?" Hermione grimaced and paced away towards the counter, where she placed a small book, maybe the size of Scabior's palm in front of the cashier. Scabior wondered when she had decided upon her purchase, but didn't comment on it, or attempt to answer her question. He was sure that she would answer herself sometime soon and save him the trouble. He didn't have to wait overly long. The moment he closed the door behind them, Hermione started speaking again.

"If you threaten Draco Malfoy more than once, if his father hasn't attempted to do something about it already, you will surely be unhappy. Mr. Malfoy is on more than just the school board and I've no doubt that he pulls strings as often as he can grab hold of them, to get whatever he wants." Hermione gave him a serious stare before she began walking again, this time back in the direction they had come from, towards the high school and the park. Scabior didn't hurry much, she wasn't walking very fast and he wasn't going to risk scaring her if he tried to run up behind her. No thank you, he had more than enough dealings with both text book and pepper spray. Instead, he seized on her own words, twisting them until they would make her suitably embarrassed.

"Oh beautiful, I didn't know you would worry about me that much if I did somethin' reckless. Maybe I'll have to use my rusty chivalry a bit more often, yeah?" Scabior grinned at her when she whirled back to him, jaw dropped and her face filled with astonishment.

"Worry? You think I – I am not worried. Maybe I'm trying to do you a favor, seeing as I have caused you two injuries already. Besides, if you have common sense, I'm sure you'll be fine, because you won't try and – wait. What am I saying? Common sense? The man who runs after a lone girl, trying to compliment her, has common sense? Excuse me, I forgot whom I was speaking with." Hermione huffed in indignation, turning back to the sidewalk and walking ahead with her head held high. Scabior wanted to laugh, she was so terribly easy to bait.

He had found her worry - and he truly did believe she was worried, she obviously knew first-hand how the Malfoy family worked – rather flattering, though he wasn't about to tell her that. But he preferred the fiery girl, even if it meant she was insulting him. He'd heard disparaging remarks most of his life, and he could deal with Hermione Granger, because she wasn't trying to hurt him, but speaking out of her own temper. Scabior rolled his eyes when she shot him another glare over her shoulder, beginning to pick up the pace.

"Oi, wait now, wait! Calm down a bit, lovely." Scabior jogged until he was a few steps behind her, happy that she hadn't turned and thrown her book at him, because he really didn't fancy another broken nose. "I'll hold off on the chivalry then, does that sound good to you?" Once he had caught up with her and Hermione wasn't shooting him glares full of death, Scabior relaxed the slightest bit. She hadn't told him to take a hike yet and he was more than sure that they were on the way to her house now – though sometime soon she would tell him that it was the end of the line. He pursed his lips and gave her another sideways glance.

"I can take care of myself. And honestly, Scabior, I still don't _know_ you. It would be very unlikely that I would share any of my horrifying experiences with someone who…" She trailed off, biting her bottom lip for a moment before she continued. "Well, I wouldn't share those experiences with someone who has been the _cause_ of similar scares. Not that you would ever think to pour blood over me. Really! I believe Malfoy missed the whole point of the movie, don't you?" Hermione rolled her eyes and pushed a few bushy locks behind her ears as they passed by the high school.

"Do you think he's even seen it? He doesn't strike me as the type to sit and watch horror movies with his buddies," Scabior told her seriously, shaking his head. Hermione considered this for a moment and agreed in a soft voice, her hand reaching out to trail against the chain-link fence they were passing. The soft _cling-cling_ noise seemed to echo around them, but Scabior didn't mind it, he was too busy watching her face, the scent of her perfume almost drowning him. What on earth was it about the girl? Why did she make him so absolutely _crazy_? Crushed gravel ebbing around his boot made him pause, looking around to realize that they were standing at the park entrance. Where had the time gone? Hermione was biting her lip again, staring off into the distance as she adjusted the book to a more comfortable position in her arms.

"Well, it was – it wasn't too bad, today," she shared, though her voice wavered, as if she were lying. Scabior leaned back against the park sign, raising an eyebrow. Wasn't bad? Hermione was definitely not one to inflate a man's ego, was she? He let loose a small chuckle and took a few steps past the sign, looking back at her over his shoulder.

"Are you just goin' to stand there?" Scabior should have been ready for her volatile emotions, she was obviously trying to dismiss him, but he was still surprised when she let out a small, angry shriek.

"You simply cannot take a hint, can you?" Her feet may as well have been stomping as she made her way to where he was and faced him. "I don't want you to walk me home. I will be quite alright with you leaving me right here, I assure you."

"Yeah, but it wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me to let the lady walk home by herself, now, would it?" Scabior gave another smile, though he knew it would only infuriate her a little more.

"We've already discussed this, you're _not_ a gentleman, Scabior. And I, apparently, am not prone to doing lady-like things. Now, _please_, let me walk home in peace? I did agree to spend time with you, but I also told you, you are not going to find out where I live. You already wait for me at my school, I would very much like for you to stay away from my home." Hermione tilted back her head to look up at him, her features set as if she were preparing for a staring contest.

"Are we back to that stalker bit then?" He asked seriously, the smile finally sliding away from his face. Hermione winced, but quickly cleared her expression once more.

"While you told me that you hadn't followed me _that_ day, you didn't deny anything about following me before. I _did_ agree to spend time with you, and for today, I have. The time spent will not include any time near my home." Her voice was firm and she looked like she was ready to add something else, when the sound of a car made Scabior tear his eyes away from the girl. A police squad car was driving slowly by the park. His heart did a funny little dance in his chest, before it felt like it fell into his stomach and he clenched his hands tightly. Ignoring her, he immediately walked further into the park, panic crawling up and down his spine. He could still hear the engine of the squad car, purring smoothly as it drove by. Hermione squeaked out a few more angry words, hustling to catch up, and then pass him.

"I told you _no_ – didn't you hear me?" Hermione questioned, stopping a few feet in front of him and planting her tennis shoes firmly into the ground. Scabior would have laughed again – she wasn't nearly as intimidating as she hoped she was being.

"It so happens that I did, but I feel like having myself a nice seat on a bench over this way," Scabior told her, motioning to a bench that sat behind the massive structure of slides. There were currently no kids on the playground and the bench was blocked by all of the slides. If he could just get over there, sit for a minute, he would be able to get out of sight. Hermione's confused expression was definitely warranted and her eyes widened exponentially when she noted the fearful look on Scabior's face.

"Alright," Hermione murmured, letting him pass by her quickly. He was past the slides and sitting down almost before Hermione could blink. What was his problem?

"Okay then, beautiful. Had a lovely time and all that, see you in a few days, hm?" Scabior rushed through his words, knowing that they sounded clumsy and more than suspicious, especially to a girl as intelligent as Hermione.

"You're giving up? Just like that?" Both of Hermione's eyebrows had risen, her toffee gaze searing him. Scabior felt near-hysterical. Now she was staying?

"Just like that," he assured her.

"Very well. That's – that's good. Enjoy your day." Hermione frowned at him before she walked away, more confused than ever. Scabior waited a few beats, his heart still thundering in his chest and peered out from behind the slides. There was no sign of the squad car and he hadn't heard anything while Hermione questioned him. He released a deep breath and tilted his head back, letting the weak rays of sunlight just barely warm his skin. He was playing with fire. All it took was just a bit of recognition and he would either be chased out of town, or thrown into jail. Scabior was wonderful when it came to escaping – but he wasn't infallible. He would wait a few minutes more, just to make sure that the police were well and truly gone, before he high-tailed it back to the motel.

Scabior did let loose a small sigh of regret though. He was more than sure that he could have weakened Hermione's resolve, if he had been given the time. Scabior would try again in a few days, and hopefully he would have better luck.

**A/N:** Oh goodness. I hate this chapter. It has some important stuff in it, but I still feel like I need to edit out huge chunks of the Scabmione interaction. Next chapter though, will go a bit faster. And stuff is goin' _down_.


	7. Sorry I Ever Tried, Deer

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter or any characters recognizable within this fan fiction. It's all just for fun!

**Sorry I Ever Tried, Deer**

The day had started out just fine. Hermione hadn't given too much thought to Scabior over the past few days, busy with studying for her upcoming finals. She hadn't seen him at all over the weekend, and she had purposely not given him a way to contact her. Hermione had shuddered to think of him calling her house, asking her mother or father if he could speak with her. After school on Monday, of course, he had been waiting. She hadn't argued, but had quickly informed him that she was desperately wanting something from the coffee shop a few doors down from Flourish and Blotts, the bookstore they had gone into last Friday. Scabior had gotten a look that made her sure he had previously had some sort of plan, and... Hermione shuddered again. There was no way that she was going to let him take her out on an actual date. However, he hadn't refused, and the time they spent together had been - well, the only way Hermione could think to describe it would be awkwardly pleasant.

Hermione had wondered about his strange actions in the park the whole of her Friday evening. Scabior had appeared scared, of what, she didn't know, she had, unfortunately, been too busy thinking that he was trying to lull her into a false sense of security. She had thought he had been acting, pretending he was going to stay and waiting just long enough to stalk her back to her house. At any given noise, Hermione had found herself whirling around, startling squirrels as they scampered across the path, or finding nothing at all behind her. At least half of the time she had found herself searching the tree tops, pleased that the foliage was mostly scattered on the ground, to give her a better view of the branches. Scabior had not been hiding in any of them. He had been telling the truth, so far as she knew, though it hadn't relaxed her feelings about him at all. She couldn't shake her suspicion.

There had been a moment in the bookstore where they had been speaking easily though and Hermione had felt slightly guilty for ruining it. Yet, the guilt was minimal; she didn't want to become accustomed to him, or to have him constantly around, throwing a wrench in her plans, though her plans for Ron always seemed like they were going nowhere fast. She had noticed, on Monday, after she had gotten home and both Harry and Ron had shown up, wanting her to accompany them to the movies, that Ron had been acting strange. He seemed tense, and Harry had continually been telling him to forget it. When Hermione had asked about the reason, Harry had thrown out a story about Ron and Ginny, but the brunette knew when one of her best friends was lying. Harry had that guilty look and couldn't stop frowning at Ron whenever the redhead said something in a sullen tone. She hadn't pressed, though looking back on it, Hermione wished she had.

Looking back on all of it, Hermione wished she had left Scabior, clutching his eyes full of pepper spray and had immediately called the police. She should have, it would have saved her a lot of trouble. It would have saved all of them from being caught up in this entire mess.

o0o

Hermione clutched the cup of hot chocolate and huddled around the warm sandwich she had bought for her lunch. It was cold today, the wind holding an icy undertone and she was wonderfully happy that she had her long, thick hair to keep her ears warm. She glanced at Ron; the tips of his ears were pink. Harry and Ginny were pressed together along the hip, chattering about Ginny's track season, sitting on the top of the wooden table. Neville and Luna were sitting with them, though not quite as obvious about their relationship. Hermione knew though, that their hands were entwined discreetly between them. She was sitting on the top of the table as well, but Ron had chosen to sit on the bench, part of his arm leaning up against her legs and butterflies had decided to flit around her stomach, just from the small contact.

Ron had been quiet all morning when Hermione had seen him, eyebrows drawn together as he thought deeply about something that was obviously bothering him. It was only a matter of time before he said something though; Ron could never keep his thoughts to himself. Hermione took a sip of her hot chocolate and then bit her bottom lip, turning her head the slightest bit to look at Ron again. She took a shallow breath and opened her mouth, ready to ask him what was wrong - when Pansy Parkinson stopped in front of their table. The chatter between Harry and Ginny died down, Neville got a pinched look on his face and Hermione knew that her expression wasn't very happy either. Luna was the one to speak.

"Why, hello Pansy. Did you reconsider joining us on the fairy hunt this Thursday?" Pansy gave Luna a disgusted look, and then turned away from Luna as if she didn't exist.

"Well Granger, I saw you with your boyfriend yesterday. How are you two doing?" Pansy sneered and a sick feeling twisted Hermione's chest. Ron had tensed against her leg and shifted so he was no longer touching her.

"I really don't believe that's any of your business, Parkinson. If you're here just to pick at me, I suggest you leave. Or maybe you really are interested in the fairy hunt Luna has organized?" Hermione lifted her eyebrows, as if in surprise. Of course, she knew that Pansy Parkinson would never willingly spend time with Luna, but if anything would help make the girl leave... Pansy scoffed, though her cheeks turned pink with embarrassment.

"Fairies? Of course- I would never- Really Granger!" Pansy turned her face away, but she didn't leave, until Luna decided to interject again.

"I don't see why not, Pansy. Did you know that fairies are helplessly attracted to those who wear malachite? I see that you have malachite earrings and if you wear those on Thursday, why, you could even be the bait! Are you sure you're-" Luna stopped, watching Pansy walk away as fast as her legs would carry her. Luna didn't look disappointed, but she did turn to Neville. "That was really too bad. I'm sure the fairies would have loved to see Pansy there, don't you think?" Neville gave her an awkward smile, which was most likely all the agreement that Luna would get out of him.

"I'm not so sure, Luna. Do you think fairies would really be attracted to someone with such an acidic personality?" Ginny asked, a smile growing on her lips. Before Luna could say anything, Ron jumped up from his seat, startling Hermione. Her hot chocolate sloshed in the cup, but she kept herself from spilling it all over her jeans and looked up, ready to chastise him.

"You don't even deny it! I've seen him! He looks like a complete mess and he's way older than all of us! I thought you said it was all just a mistake - you let your anger-" Ron was spluttering now, hands thrown up in the air, his face turning purple. Harry had wide eyes and they were quickly flashing between Hermione and Ron, as if he knew that he needed to stop this, before it got out of hand. Hermione put her food and drink down, her chest constricting again and got off the table, her face flushing.

"I did speak out of anger! And you, Ronald Weasley, should be the one to talk! You say things all the time that are absolutely-" Hermione didn't notice that Ron had let out a noise like train whistle, his face darkening. They were both yelling now, nearly face to face, arms gesturing to either side, Hermione stomping one of her feet, Ron's hands clenched into fists.

"You're spending time with some kind of pervert-" "You never take the time to listen-" The fight would have continued, but Ginny had jumped up and pushed the both of them apart, a hand on either chest.

"OI! Calm down before your heads explode!" The shout of the youngest Weasley made the both of them stop, but Hermione was shaking with anger and Ron still looked disgusted. After a second or two of staring, Ron huffed angrily and strode away, the back of his neck and ears as red as his hair. Hermione held it together for all of another five seconds before she burst into tears and felt Ginny wrap her arms around her.

"He's- so - in-in-infuriating!" Hermione wailed. Ginny sighed and patted the brunette gently on the back and then Harry squeezed Hermione's shoulder gently. He gave her another one of those guilty looks and adjusted his glasses.

"Of course he is. He's a Weasley," Harry murmured, which brought a watery smile to Hermione and a glare from Ginny. "You thought I would let that just lie there?" Harry asked his girlfriend, giving her a cheeky smile.

Neville and Luna were quiet, but it didn't take long for Hermione to stop crying and to settle down to finish her lunch. However, the damage was done for the afternoon. Hermione and Ron could both hold grudges with the best of them, and she didn't know how long it would take for one, or the both of them, to break and apologize. Hermione finished her lunch in relative silence, letting the others do the talking for her. When the bell rang, Luna patted her shoulder and gave her one of her typical dreamy smiles, saying more without words than any of their friends ever could. Though she didn't always get along with the girl, Hermione obviously didn't believe in quite a bit of what she said, it didn't mean she thought Luna was a bad person.

She headed to her next class and hoped that the rest of the day would go quickly and smoothly. Hermione had no idea that the exact opposite would happen.

o0o

The Chemistry problem was giving Hermione a bit of trouble. Mr. Snape had written down a series of questions on the board, allowing them to work in pairs to solve them and unfortunately, Hermione was paired with Gregory Goyle. He of course, wasn't offering any advice, though Hermione thought he likely had none. Mr. Snape wouldn't say anything about it either, as Goyle was a part of the football team and Snape had a bit of a favoritism problem when it came down to it. Quite a few of the teachers did, as well as their Principal. Hermione shook her head and tried to focus on the question again.

_What type of decay is evident in the nuclear reaction shown below?_ Hermione let out a small groan when she saw the person in front of her, Malfoy, of course, turn around to watch them. She suffered in silence, knowing that sooner or later, he would taunt or ridicule and she didn't have to wait for very long. Malfoy shared a look with Goyle, smirking, and then focused on Hermione.

"So Granger, I met your boyfriend the other day." He leaned his elbows on the table, peering at the problem she was working on.

"Indeed," Hermione murmured, methodically going through her work to check the answer she had come up with. Malfoy's pale blond hair shone like a beacon in her eyes, she couldn't completely ignore him, but she resisted the urge to look up.

"Yes, I did. And, well, he had the audacity to threaten me, you know. A Malfoy! He isn't from around here, is he?" Hermione moved onto the next problem, her dark eyes looking at nothing but the paper.

"More than likely not."

"No, I didn't think so. Of course, I let my father know about it. Men such as him shouldn't be hanging around a school, threatening the populace… And guess what father found out?" Hermione let out a sigh, her pencil flying across the paper.

"Something incriminating, I'll bet," she murmured again. Malfoy laughed and though Snape obviously knew that there was talking going on, he didn't come over to put a stop to it.

"Incriminating she says! That fellow _looks_ incriminating. He _is_ a wanted criminal." Malfoy held his hand out, picking at something beneath a fingernail. "Of course, father said we couldn't have that. Letting a wanted criminal wander free about a school? It's only a matter of time before the police find and arrest him. I wonder, when he's in jail will you be allowed conjugal visits?" Hermione had just finished the last question, and at Malfoy's words her pencil tip was suddenly smashed into the paper. She took a deep breath and dropped the pencil on the table, finally lifting her toffee eyes to Malfoys' gray ones. His sneer slid, just a bit, but he forced himself to keep it on his face.

"I don't really think this is something to laugh about, do you Malfoy? What you're saying is going to land an innocent person behind bars-" Malfoy scoffed, lowering his voice and leaning towards her.

"I'm not _lying_, Granger. The man is wanted and now that the police know he's in the area, it's only a matter of time. I hope he isn't coming to visit you today, because I hear we're going to be having a patrol through the school grounds this afternoon, after school lets out." Hermione felt her stomach knot, but her expression didn't change. Of all the things Draco Malfoy had done, this was one of the worst. Though Hermione thought Scabior a bit of a creep, she could almost feel it in her bones, Malfoy was lying. That was what Draco Malfoy did best, after all. If they had been out of sight of Snape, or almost anywhere other than where they were, Hermione would have slapped him. He was a menace, a rat, a lying little – Hermione took a deep breath to calm herself as Draco turned in his seat, going back to working on his own paper. The rest of the class passed by so slow, Hermione thought that the clocks had frozen.

o0o

It was in her second to last class of the day, with Mrs. McGonagall, that Hermione found herself trying to come up with a plan. Scabior hadn't told her he would be visiting today – but when had he ever said anything of the sort? He just, randomly appeared, coming to visit when it suited him and there was a 50/50 chance that he would be there again today. No doubt Malfoy had been telling the truth about one thing, the cops would be there, waiting to take Scabior away for a crime he likely hadn't committed. And it would be all Hermione's fault. Partially Scabior as well, but that wasn't what was sticking in her head. There was only one solution that kept popping up and after three or four times of trying to come up with something else – Hermione decided to go with her gut instinct.

She would have to find Scabior, as quickly as possible and tell him to beat it. This, this favor, she was doing for him, would also help alleviate her guilt over breaking his nose and using pepper spray on him. Hermione would find him, explain the situation as best she could, and then go talk to the cops waiting and testify against whatever claim Malfoy had come up with to try and land Scabior in jail. That would be the end of all of it. After this mess was all sorted out, she would talk to Scabior one last time, tell him he really did cause more trouble than she ever wanted to deal with and that she had no interest in him what-so-ever. He would leave her alone and go back to whatever it was he had been doing before he tried to involve himself in her life.

The pounding of her nervous heart lessened at the thought. Yes, this was the best possible solution. Hermione didn't let herself consider what would happen if the cops found Scabior before-hand. When the class broke into groups, Hermione could barely contain herself. She needed the day to be over _now._ Harry and Seamus joined her at her table, joking about something Dean had said in their last class, until Harry noticed the strained look on Hermione's face.

"Hermione, what's the matter? You look like you've gotten some bad news," he smiled, wondering if it was about her fight with Ron, but let her explain before he asked anything else.

"Oh Harry, everything is just going dreadfully. You remember last week, when I accidentally told Pansy that-" Hermione couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence, but Harry acquiesced and nodded his head. "Well, last Friday he overhead Malfoy badmouthing me, threatening to prank me or something idiotic and he attempted to defend my honor." Hermione rolled her eyes, as if to say it was the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard.

"So he threatened him in turn. You know how Malfoy is, of course he ran to his father. He told me last period that his father had the police after the man, that he was a wanted criminal," Hermione's voice had dropped and she couldn't bring herself to tell Harry everything that Malfoy had said. If Harry, or even Ron, heard there would be yet another problem rising up between the boys and they didn't need any excuses as it was.

"Do you think he's telling the truth, or was he just trying to get a rise out of you?" Harry's face was serious; he had dealt with the whole of the Malfoy family before, though his father and Sirius had made short work of their issues, much to Lucius Malfoy's dismay. Hermione shrugged, opening her book and flipping hurriedly through the pages.

"I have no idea, though we can't put either option past him. He told me that the police would be patrolling the campus at the end of the day as well." Hermione looked irritated, she had missed the correct page and had to back track.

Harry sat back in chair, glancing at Seamus, who only shook his head, as if he didn't want to be a part of this discussion. Running a hand through his already untidy hair, Harry leaned on the desk, lowering his voice.

"I know this doesn't have much to do with what you're talking about, but you _do_ know why Ron was upset, don't you?" The way Harry sat, and the tense line of his shoulders and the tightness in his face said that he was uncomfortable with talking about their other best friend. Hermione momentarily forgot about the issue with Scabior and Malfoy, but she said nothing, staring at Harry expectantly.

"It was about that man, what did Ginny say his name was – Scabior. He thinks you're lying to us, that you're really dating him," Harry now appeared downright miserable.

"Of course I'm not!" Hermione all but shrieked. Mrs. McGonagall immediately chastised her, eyes peering over her spectacles. Hermione apologized and turned back to the assignment, her face flushed red.

"Of course I'm not. I told the both of you as much. The man is strange and he's much too old for me anyways and you _know_ that I like Ron." Hermione's cheeks darkened, especially when Seamus and Harry smiled at each other.

"_I_ know that, Hermione. Ron doesn't see anything. He's jealous, of course." Harry shook his head, knowing it was all ridiculous. Hermione opened her mouth and then frowned, looking back down at her paper. She had gotten off track. This conversation was supposed to be about how she could help Scabior, and simultaneously get him out of her life.

"Be that as it may, Harry, I'm still worried about what Malfoy told me. He can be a lying cockroach, but his father wouldn't hesitate to put someone in jail for the sake of his son's lies." Hermione sighed, but Harry had nothing to offer her on the subject. She would have to trust her instincts then. Hermione felt as if she wasn't paying enough attention in both McGongall and Flitwick's classes, but she already knew the material and she had to admit that it wouldn't hurt her. At least, not overmuch.

She ignored Pansy's snide looks and whispered comments to Blaise, who seemed to want to ignore the girl as well. Obviously, Draco hadn't kept the information to himself, though Hermione found that it was hardly surprising. If people didn't know about the atrocities that Draco Malfoy committed in order to get his way, it wouldn't be half as much fun for him.

When the bell rang, Hermione was ready. Her things had already been put in her bag and she snatched it up and shot out the door, the moment Flitwick told them that they were dismissed. Adrenaline seemed to be shooting through her veins, urging her to run, but Hermione kept herself at a quick, but steady pace. The stairs were in sight, and at the opposite end of the school parking lot, just within view, sat Scabior. The reality of the situation suddenly hit Hermione. If Malfoy had been telling the truth, it wouldn't be long before the police showed up and she needed Scabior to get off of hte premises before they turned up. Hermione ran.

Her sneakers pounded evenly along the pavement, her bag thumping solidly against her lower back as she rushed down the stairs. She watched Scabior stand, raising an eyebrow in confusion at the panicked look that was plastered to her face. She crossed the parking lot, tripping just before she reached him and Scabior clasped his hands on her shoulders just in time. She was slightly out of breath, but it didn't matter. She hurriedly shrugged his hands off her shoulders, her hands fidgeting uncomfortably.

"Scabior, you have to leave, _now. _I warned you that Malfoy's father would most likely take offense and Malfoy told me today that-" Hermione had looked up at Scabior and she stopped talking immediately, seeing fear well up in his eyes. Before she could ask what was wrong, before Hermione could turn to look and see what he was seeing, someone was shouting.

"_SIR!_ I suggest you step away from the student and lift your hands in the air."

Hermione felt her heart shoot into her throat and she nearly choked on it, clenching her jaw. Slowly, she looked over her shoulder, where two officers, one black man and one petite woman, were standing in the middle of the parking lot. She could just spy the man's nametag, which looked like it started with an 'S'. Hermione turned around, her hands held out to either side, beseechingly, though the fear was written plain on her face. Every single student in the vicinity had frozen and from where she was, Hermione could see both Harry and Ron, standing stalk still at the top of the stairs.

"_FREEZE!_" The female officer shouted and Hermione's thoughts blanked. She found herself rooted to the spot, like a deer in the headlights, unable to look away as the woman drew a gun and aimed it just past her. In her shock, Hermione hadn't noticed the large hand curl around her right shoulder.

**A/N**: If I continued with how I had originally outlined this chapter, I would have more than twenty pages. I thought it best to split it up into two (forgive me! I know, it's a cliff-hanger!) but know that I'm nearly done with the other half, so it shouldn't be too long of a wait. (One guess as to who the officers are. =] )


	8. You're a Wolf, Boy

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the characters mentioned within (or without! haha, yeah it wasn't that funny) and I'm not making any profit from the posting of this fanfiction. It's all just for fun!

**You're a Wolf, Boy**

Adrenaline can do some funny things to ones mind. It may make everything speed up. One moment, the person is relaxing, content, and then an adrenaline rush hits them as they see their child fall. Without even thinking, the person is on the other side of the room, with little to no memory of how they got there. Or, it may make everything slow down. There's a feeling of being stuck, turning your head in slow motion as your eyes take everything in, but that's the thing - you're able to see it _all_. And sometimes, you really wish you hadn't.

o0o

Hermione didn't feel the hand clasping her shoulder, but she forced herself to smile reassuringly at the officers, her hands still held out to either side. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Ron and Harry moving down the stairs, though they may have been snails for all the attention she paid them. The dark toffee eyes were focused completely on the drawn gun in front of her, though she was very aware of the young woman who held it, standing steady and straight-backed. She heard Scabior make a small noise, but she ignored it, opening her mouth, ready to speak with the officers - only to start as several girls screamed and students began to scatter. Thankfully they ran _away_ from what was happening, but Hermione made herself focus again.

"H-hello there, officers. My name is Hermione Granger and there seems to be some misunderstanding," she began, her voice gaining strength as she continued. The young female officer, hair short and messy, gave Hermione a quick, incredulous look, but focused once more on Scabior. The tall black man strode quickly over to his partner, face serious as he leaned over and spoke beneath his breath. Hermione thought that he was chiding her, but she was too far away, and though his voice was deep and echoed, it was indiscernible. After what felt like forever, but was actually less than sixty seconds, the man turned to Hermione and straightened, giving her a strained smile.

"Miss Granger, you can call me Officer Shacklebolt. I'm going to please ask if the gentleman there will release your shoulder and allow you to walk back into the school. Does this sound alright, Mr. Scabior?" Shacklebolt didn't move, and his partners gun was not withdrawn. Hermione let out another shakey breath before speaking again.

"L-like I said, Officer Shacklebolt. There s-seems to be a misunderstanding. I know a fellow student of mine was in an argument with Mr. Scabior a few days past and unfortunately it was over my well-being. Mr. Scabior here only had my best interests in mind, though some people don't _think_ before they speak," Hermione finished, her voice rising into a near squeak as she said the word 'think'. The sense of touch seemed to flood back through her body and Hermione's heart leaped as Scabior's fingers tightened almost painfully against her shoulder. What was he doing? The police were obviously wary about this whole situation and Hermione had absolute no idea what Malfoy had told them about Scabior to make them have such a reaction. From the looks on their faces, Scabior was reacting to it all badly.

Shacklebolt had opened his mouth again, ready to reply, when Hermione saw a quick flash of movement out of the corner of her eye. A mop of ginger hair and a face nearly as red was rushing towards them - and then Harry had tackled Ron to the ground, the boys struggling furiously on the pavement. A strange _click_ sounded right behind Hermione's left ear and she turned toward it, her eyes catching the barest glimmer of silver before Scabior let go of her shoulder and wrapped his arm around her middle, his fingers digging painfully into her ribs.

"_You idiot_! What are you doing?" Hermione shrieked, her hands raising up to curl around the arm that now held a pocket knife in hand, a few inches away from her cheek. Her stomach dropped into her toes and a cold feeling curled through her, starting with her fingertips and moving onwards. Scabior was shaking and she could hear him whispering "Sorry, sorry, sorry," over and over again, his face nearly buried in her tangled mass of hair. The female officer had sucked in a sharp breath, her lips parting in fearful surprise, but Shacklebolt hadn't moved more than his eyes, flashing quickly to Ron and Harry on the ground and then back to Hermione and Scabior. Hermione could barely hear Ron let out a muffled yell.

"Miss Granger, I don't believe it was a misunderstanding," Shacklebolt finally said, his deep baritone enough to push through the rage that was building in Hermione. She knew her eyes were wide, could feel her breath moving too quickly through her lungs, and though she was scared, what she wanted more than anything was to punch Scabior in the face. The idiot! She was trying to help him, and if she had been given time... Hermione's eyes were drawn back to her best friends. Ron had his face pressed against the asphault with Harry holding him down, but both of them had their eyes focused on her, full of worry and disbelief.

"But it was!" Hermione finally shrieked, struggling faintly to push Scabior's arm from around her stomach, as if it was no big deal. She could barely make him budge, but she kept trying. "It was! I don't know what you were told about him, but even though he can be _idiotic_-" Hermione pushed forcefully against the arm again, ignoring the blunt knife that was so close to her face. Shacklebolt gave a sharp shake of his head, as if she needed to stop. Her chest heaving, Hermione finally went as limp as Scabior allowed, the scent of leather, tobacco and a hint of whiskey filling her nostrils. Everything was going wrong. Everything was falling to pieces around her, and she could do nothing to stop it. Bottom lip trembling, Hermione glanced back at her two best friends. The fight with Ron seemed so trivial now. Nothing could compare to what was happening now, and it was all her fault, for trying to relieve herself of guilt.

"Mr. Scabior, can I please ask you to remove yourself from Miss Granger? Let her walk back to the school-" Shacklebolt was talking over his partner, who had removed a hand from her gun pointing stance to click a button on the radio attached to her shoulder, trying to distract attention from drawing to her. Scabior shook his head, freeing himself from Hermione's hair, at least to peer up at the officers, and he finally began to speak.

"Now, now officers, I think you might need to listen to me, eh? I think I like you best right where you two are, so try not to move," Scabior's voice was confident, which was a complete contrast to the shudders that were wracking his body. It told Hermione, at least, that he was not happy with the situation in any way. Hermione felt her eyes drawn to Ron and Harry again, but they hadn't moved from their spot on the ground. Ron's lips were quivering, but whether it was from fear or anger, Hermione didn't know. Scabior began to back away, Hermione's tennis shoes catching the pavement beneath her feet, but it didn't deter him. He was already close to the thick chain link fence, lined with advertisement boards for the local businesses that supported the school. If he got behind the advertisement boards, he would be out of sight of the officers and Hermione suddenly realized that she didn't want that to happen. It was almost a premonition of danger and once again Hermione began to wriggle, pushing at Scabior's arms.

"Ah, ah, my lovely. I'm afraid you're goin' to have to come with me," he said loud enough for the officers to hear. Hermione's movements became frantic, her hands so shakey she could barely grasp onto him - and they were out of sight. The knife vanished, the arms adjusted, throwing her over his shoulder and he ran.  
>And he was <em>fast<em>.

Hermione went from trying to escape, to holding on for dear life as he sprinted down the sidewalk, his shoulder hitting painfully against her hip. A soft whirring noise and then a loud _cling_ shot past them, just barely grazing the edge of the chain link fence. Hermione screamed, for a moment in wordless terror, and then glanced up, spying the female officer sighting down her arm.

"NO! DO. NOT. SHOOT!" Hermione screeched, her words punctuated by the bouncing as Scabior ran farther and farther from the school. The woman holstered her gun and ran out of sight, most likely back to their vehicle. Hermione focused on calming herself down; still angry with Malfoy to an extent, but now it was mostly Scabior. She called him every vile name she could think of and began to pound her fists on his back, but he ignored her. Hermione looked up once more and saw that the school was now barely visible in the distance. They were nearing the park, which meant that they would be close to her home. A flare of hope burned Hermione and she dug her fingers into his shoulders, bracing herself.

Scabior ran into the park, Hermione thrown over his shoulder and shot past the kids playing and the mothers watching open mouthed in shock. They passed the playground equipment, the slides and the swings, before Hermione decided it was now or never. Her feet found purchase against his thigh and Hermione pushed off of his shoulders, using the momentum to spin out of his grip. It wasn't pretty. When Hermione hit the ground she gasped with pain, because she had brought Scabior down with her and the top of his head had hit against her cheekbone, before they both smashed into the dirt. Sucking in air, her eyes watering, Hermione forced herself up, saw that Scabior was still moving and began heading for home.

Hermione was not an athlete. She had participated in gym class because it was mandatory. She did not relish the feeling of cold air burning her throat and searing the inside of her lungs, nor the ache of muscles being pushed as far as they could go. But she felt like the devil was on her heels, and she _could_ run. That was what was important. Hermione shot off of the path and into the trees, her feet crunching dead leaves as she ran. She knew this forested area like the back of her hand. She had spent ages playing make-believe with Harry and Ron, climbing trees and exploring. Through the aching limbs and tight chest, Hermione tried to focus on those memories. She was the heroine, fallen on bad times, but the two heroes, her best friends, would save her. They always had. Hermione pretended she could see them running with her, away from the dragon and the army that followed, back to the castle.

The sound of booted feet finally caught up with her ears and Hermione felt a knot of tension settle in her stomach. She didn't dare risk looking over her shoulder to judge his distance. If she did, that would be it. Hermione pushed on, ducking low branches and pushing other, more flexible ones, away from her. Hopefully they would snap back and catch him in the face. But there were no sounds of anger. There was no cursing and the chase was still on.

Hermione threw herself over a thick branch that was too low to slip beneath and let out a small scream as she tumbled down the hill it had been hiding. The dry leaves were like slick ice and Hermione slid down them on her stomach, her hands scrabbling for a hold, something, _anything_ to help her stop. She glanced up and could see Scabior at the top of the hill, stopped. For the moment. The hill began to even out, and though her legs felt like jelly, Hermione pushed herself up again, recognizing a near-by oak that she had once gotten stuck in as a child. Hope poured over her like a wave and tears stung her eyes, but Hermione wasn't home yet. She whirled and started to push her way through dense underbrush, not caring that there might be poison oak, or creatures hibernating. A bite or the contraction of a horrible rash was nothing to her, not when a mad man had just tried to kidnap her in the presence of two police officers.

Her chest hurt and though her skin was clammy and cold, she felt like she was burning from the inside out. Hermione was panting, a burst of adrenaline making her push herself a bit faster and from out of nowhere she had the inane thought that she was going to be in extreme pain tomorrow from the build-up of lactic acid. A hysteric laugh tried to force itself through her lips, but Hermione swallowed it, her eyes focusing on the path about twenty feet in front of her. She was so close; she just knew she could make it. Chest heaving, Hermione sped up once more, forcing herself through a bush filled with needle-like branches, not caring that her hands stung from dozens of tiny scratches.

Her feet slipped on the loose gravel of the path, but it didn't matter. She was near the edge of the forest, and just within view was a short row of quaint little houses. Right in the middle of them was _home_. Like Little Red Riding Hood coming to grandmother's house, the view was so picturesque it made her eyes sting and she rushed towards it, slipping her bag off her shoulders, not caring that she would have to retrieve it later because of homework, or anything else. At that moment, Hermione would gladly have forgotten all about her studies, because the nightmare chase was _over_.

The wind was knocked out of her chest as she fell face down on the ground, a heavy body pinning her down. Like a bolt of lightning, hysteria traveled through her system in a matter of milliseconds. This wasn't really happening. She could _see_ her home. The heroine was not supposed to have home within reach, only to be... Scabior slipped his arms around her, yanking her back to her feet. Debris fell from her shirt and the ache of a bruise forming pulsed on her cheekbone where she had been hit not only by Scabior's head, but the gravel and dirt of the path before her. The panic and adrenaline of the chase was nothing. Shock rose like a tidal wave and crashed over her head, taking all feeling and hope with it.

o0o

Scabior felt like the lowest scum of the earth. He should never have come to this town, thinking it was safe, just because of... He grit his teeth and pressed a hand against his mouth, horribly angry with himself. He hadn't taken Hermione seriously about the Malfoy boy, and then, with the cops... Scabior had been scared. There was no doubt about it. He knew what would happen if someone even recognized him, knew that he would be sent back to jail and the hell that it was. But for a moment, seeing the officers, he had believed that Hermione could talk her way out of anything. She was going to help him, didn't think that he was a criminal, and even told them that they were mistaken! Scabior was going to let her talk him out of this. He could pretend that he was someone else - but then there were those boys.

The redhead had scared him. Scabior was panicking because of the cops, and then that horrible teenager had run at him, and out of the corner of his eye, the boy may as well have been another officer, for all that Scabior knew. What was something that would get him out of the situation? What was something that would keep that woman from _shooting_ him? A hostage. The pocket knife, dull and ill-used, just barely its original color, may as well have appeared within his hand. Like magic, he flicked it out and found his arms clutching Hermione to him like he had wanted to do since he had caught her mouth-watering scent in that god-forsaken store. But he hadn't wanted to do it while holding a knife to her face. He hadn't wanted to hold her and use her as a hostage. That would be the only way he could hold her now.

She had surprised him in the park, toppling the both of them to the ground and his ears rang once he had sat up. Hermione had already ran by then. Panicking, the cops were on the way and he didn't have his hostage, Scabior had run after her. The chase had been... glorious. For him. Somewhere inside, he was ashamed of the joy he had taken in hunting her down and tackling her to ground. But it had been the greatest rush he had ever had. The sounds of crushed leaves and the heavy breathing had been the only way to track her and it hadn't taken him long. Her dive over the branch had scared him for a moment, seeing the panic on her face as her hands dug into leaves and earth, trying to stop her descent. But he couldn't stop now, not when he had her cornered.

Scabior had been surprised again when he saw her, stopped on the edge of the path, staring at the little houses. He had momentarily wondered if one was her home, but the thought hadn't stopped his leap. It was after that, that things had turned ugly. Until they were about half way back to his motel room, Hermione let him drag her along like a rag-doll. But when she heard the sound of a car driving by, she began to fight again and Scabior had received a nasty claw mark down his left cheek. He'd also received a punch to the face, but her hits had been weak and were more like half-hearted flails than anything. She'd gone limp about ten minutes away from the motel.

The moment he closed the motel door, Hermione had come back to life. She flew at him like a bird-of-prey, trying to smash her hands into his face, but mostly they just bounced off his shoulders and chest. Scabior had tried to calm her down, but she wouldn't listen, wouldn't open her mouth or even attempt to speak of make any noise, except for the furious swings. The wrestle that followed had scared them both.

Scabior had fended her off with one hand, the other digging in the small nightstand beside the bed, searching for the hand-cuffs that a... A _date_ had brought over about a month ago, and left behind. He'd pulled them out and managed to hook one around her wrist before she knew what was happening. The fear that had flashed over her face made Scabior sick. They had each fought in earnest then, but Scabior was stronger and it wasn't difficult to push her onto the bed, pin her down and then wind the handcuffs through the cheap metal railings of the headboard. Once she was caught, Scabior threw himself off of her and shut himself in the bathroom, letting his body force up all the food he'd eaten that day.

And here he was. Staring into the bathroom mirror and trying to tell himself that he wasn't a monster. For reasons unknown, Hermione wasn't screaming, though it wouldn't have helped much in the first place. The motel was a dump, and being owned and operated by people as oily and snake-like as it was... Screams of any kind usually meant one thing. After splashing his face with water, Scabior finally left the restroom and glanced towards the bed. Hermione wasn't moving. A bubble of panic rose in his chest and Scabior shot across the room, fingers searching for a pulse. It was there. He frowned and stepped away, eyebrows drawn together as he stared down at her. Maybe she had passed out from the exertion?

Scabior threw himself in the small chair and covered his face with both hands, mind racing. This wasn't nearly as bad as the job he had had taken to get out of jail, but he couldn't get himself out of this trouble. But the job... Maybe that was the ticket! His blue eyes focused on a spot on the wall, not really seeing it. He'd finished it, though it had been hell and in the long run had turned out to be the worst decision he could have ever made. He'd finished it. Surely...

Surely Riddle owed him for that one.

o0o

Seeing someone being kidnapped is not an everyday occurrence. Seeing one of your best friends being kidnapped? Harry didn't have the words. Ron had cried. _Cried_. He had cried and cursed Harry and no doubt would have been laying in the school parking lot, pounding his fists into the pavement, if Harry had not yanked him up and told him that they needed to move quickly. Shacklebolt, and his partner, her tag had read N. Tonks, had immediately rushed off to their car, Tonks shouting into her radio. Harry had watched them dispassionately, Ron muttering questions, before he jerked his friend's shirt and motioned towards the sidewalk.

"Hermione was taken on foot, we can follow on foot. Come on, Ron - _hurry_!" It had taken a moment for the redhead to realize what was going on, but he had loped after Harry without argument. They ran in the direction that Hermione had been taken, and would have had no idea on where to find her, but they saw the group of mothers, leaving the park in a rush with kids in hand. One of them was yelling into her cellphone about a crazy-looking man carrying a girl over his shoulder. Harry and Ron exchanged a short glance before they darted into the park and down the gravel path to Hermione's home, Ron muttering beneath his breath.

"You would think that someone would attempt to stop him! Hey you, yeah, the one obviously carrying a girl away against her will - what's going on?" Ron threw his hands up in the air, but finally stopped talking, saving his breath for continuing their endeavor. Harry shot his friend a sympathetic glance but didn't say anything. There was no good answer and it was slightly startling to realize that more often than not, people would look the other way when something bad was going on. Well, look the other way, or _run_ the other way. A flare of anger traveled up Harry's spine as he thought this - Malfoy was one of the people who would run away from a bad situation. Hermione sharing her worry over what Malfoy had said came to mind as well. Harry wished he had urged her to forget about it all, that he could have given her some kind of helpful advice.

The only advice Harry could think of, however, involved ignoring Scabior completely. While Hermione was brilliant, studious and always one to follow the rules... She often wanted to think the best of people, when they obviously didn't deserve it. Ron had once accused Hermione of having a crush on Draco Malfoy - and while the idea had seemed absolutely preposterous to Harry and offensive to Hermione, Ron had made a good point. Every single time that Harry or Ron had though Malfoy was getting up to something, worse than his usual taunts, Hermione had scoffed. She had usually thrown in an insult for good measure, but to a small extent, she had defended Malfoy. He shook his head and pushed his glasses back up his nose.

Harry was sure they had been making good time; they would be able to catch up - when he heard a yell in the distance, the sound echoing only once. He clenched his hands and urged Ron to go faster. Hermione and Scabior were farther along than he had thought and there were no more screams or any shouts for help. By the time they had reached the small cul de sac, Hermione was gone again. Ron had rushed forward, snatching her bag from the ground and moaning piteously. He knelt down on the ground, clutching the strap of the bag and staring at the dirt and debris in front of him.

"Hermione wouldn't have willingly left it behind. But at least we know they came this way," Harry panted, leaning his hands on his knees as he tried to get his breath back. As they were standing there, sirens began screaming in the distance, getting steadily closer. Harry clenched his hands tightly on his knees, knowing that they needed to keep moving and soon. They didn't need to be stopped and questioned by the cops and the more time they spent here, the farther away Hermione became. He opened his mouth and straightened, ready to speak, but Ron beat him to it.

"What if she's dead? What if he's killed her?" The redhead turned to Harry, his eyes wide and his face ashen. Harry took a step back, as if Ron had said something unforgivable and then rushed forward, yanking on Ron's arm.

"Thinking like that isn't going to help! You need to get up! Leave the bag Ron, it'll only slow us down and we need to get moving." Harry whirled away and started searching the ground, trying to discern footprints. His godfather had taught him how to track animals, but that had been years ago and Harry had not paid half the attention he wished he would have. He stopped next to Ron again, seeing two long lines dragged through the dirt - and he crowed with triumph. "This way Ron! He took her this way, look, he must have dragged her away," but Harry didn't stop to see if Ron would follow, he shot off into the forest, feet crunching noisily through the leaves.

There was noise almost in tandem with his footsteps though, and Harry peered over his shoulder to see Ron gaining on him, his face serious and more focused. The two boys ran as fast as they could, but the longer they continued, the more their hopes and adrenaline waned. Harry stopped when he saw no more disturbed leaves and found himself very close to the highway. Cars flew past, blurred with speed and Harry wondered where Scabior could have taken her. Ron caught up with him and stared morosely at the street before slumping against a tree and fisting his hands in his hair. Harry didn't move from where he was, until he heard the echoes of shouts ringing through the trees. The police had caught up and would probably be much quicker on the up-take than Harry. It would surely be a short time before they found the two boys and then sent them home.

"Wait - there's the bloody devil! Harry look!" Ron shot to his feet and tore off through the trees, barely leaving Harry enough time to see what he had meant. Far in the distance, where the highway ran into one of the city streets, was a man who_ could_ be Scabior, though they wouldn't be able to truly tell without binoculars. Harry pushed himself to catch up with Ron, but by the time they were back in town, neither of them knew which direction the man had gone. Ron was rigid with fury and could probably only see a few feet in front of him, with such a haze clouding his mind. Harry turned to the left, eyes straining and thought he saw him again, heading towards the more questionable part of town.

"Come on, Ron, let's go this way," Harry told him quietly, walking at a quick, but normal pace. Ron followed on his heels, shoving his hands angrily into his jean pockets. The boys were about as inconspicuous as Christmas decorations in May, but no one bothered them. Teenagers were always getting into trouble and there were usually a few who wandered away from the typical hangouts, hoping to score drugs or find someone willing to buy alcohol for minors. The farther they got from their homes and school, however, was making the both of them nervous. Harry was about ready to call it quits - they were now on the very outskirts of town and the houses were now few and far between; and it was getting dark. Harry stopped and the cold seemed to seep into his bones. He hadn't let himself consider Ron's words - but what if something horrible had happened? Hermione wouldn't just lie down without a fight and if the man was really a criminal, who knew what could have happened.

"What was that?" Ron whispered, his face turned towards a worn-looking dirt path that led towards more trees. Harry hadn't seen anything, and he shook his head, but Ron began walking in that direction, slow at first, but then he suddenly put on a burst of speed. Harry cursed beneath his breath and began running again.

"Ron, there's nothing here - we need to head home," Harry murmured furiously, even as his feet carried him after the red head. Ron ignored him and the boys continued on for another ten minutes before Harry grabbed Ron's sleeve and made him stop. Up ahead, lights like a beacon in the darkness, was what looked like the dilapidated ruins of an old lumber mill. Harry felt his lips part in surprise - what on earth was _this_ doing out in the middle of nowhere? The boys moved closer, and narrowing his eyes, Harry let out a soft gasp. There was Scabior, walking up to the door, nervously looking all around him. Hermione was no-where in sight. The boys crept even closer, as quietly as possible, but it wasn't necessary, Scabior knocked and once a small slat opened in the door, his voice carried in the night.

"Here ta see Mr. Riddle. Would like to call in a favor, I think." Scabior's voice was more confident than he looked and feminine tones hissed something at him before slamming the small slat shut. He waited though, and so did Harry and Ron. It was a few minutes before the woman returned, throwing the door open and gesturing wildly inside. The door shut with a bang behind him. Ron glanced at Harry, confusion evident in his eyes. Harry shook his head; he was just as confused...

"Wait," Harry whispered, turning to look Ron full on. "He said Mr. Riddle?" Harry asked. Ron nodded his head in confirmation, though he looked about to protest whatever Harry was getting at.

"Mr. Riddle - _Thomas Riddle_? The politician?"

Neither boy said anything, but the question had sent a shiver down both of their spines. Not far off, the sound of a twig snapped and both boys whipped their heads about.

"Oh no," Ron whispered, panic filling his eyes.

"Who's there?" A deep, growling voice asked, the beam of a flashlight bouncing off of the trees.

**A/N**: Alrighty! I know - about half this chapter deals with Ron and Harry and it's serious and kinda crazy and hopefully won't make everyone irritated with me. D= The more outlines I make for this fic though, the more it's becoming a _story_ instead of just funny fluff (though very amusing and greatly appreciated fluff, from your reviews and favs and alerts!) Which, I will thank you for your love of it constantly. Anyway. For those of you whom are new, keep in mind - rape will not happen in my fic. (or future fics) Ever.


	9. Crooks Are Out

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Harry Potter characters in any way; this is all just for fun!

**Crooks Are Out**

Emotions are so tied into people that physical manifestation will eventually materialize one way or another. Fear, loss and shock are all perfect ways to push one's body into overdrive, but eventually the body has to rest. Exhaustion wants no answer; it will take what a body needs, even when a situation is dire.

o0o

A news program was running, and her arms _ached_. Hermione shifted, trying to pull her arms back down to her sides, only to remember where she was when the clink and clatter of handcuffs against metal railings reached her ears. Pressing her lips tightly together, hoping Scabior hadn't noticed her movement, she peered out of one eye. Between the fan of her lashes, Hermione could see the flickering lights from the television, but Scabior wasn't in the single chair.

Still hesitant, she waited a few moments before she opened both her eyes and lifted her head up enough to see that, except for herself, the room was empty. A chill ran down her spine. He had left her alone? She tilted her head a little farther, trying to see the restroom, but it too, was dark. Trying to blow away stray strands of hair, Hermione turned herself towards the door, as much as she was able. The curtains on the window were closed and the _Do Not Disturb_ sign was missing, which most likely meant that it was hanging on the handle outside.

Hermione felt her cheeks heat up and her throat tighten, but she choked the tears back and took a few calming breaths before she felt, while not good, at least together. She was so stupid! Her mother had told her once, that you couldn't save everyone. Sometimes it was better to let something run it's course, than to try and throw a wrench in the plans. She couldn't have been more right. Hermione had been trying to do the right thing, for the most part, something inside her whispered, vindictive.

It was true. For the most part, Hermione had been trying to do the right thing, at the time she hadn't believed Scabior truly dangerous... But that wasn't true either. Hermione clenched her teeth and let out an angry huff, her fingers curling tight against her palms.

"Think, Hermione," she grumbled to herself, her eyebrows drawing together as she stared at the ceiling.

From the first, she had thought something was off about Scabior. Off, but not quite... Well, she hadn't thought him capable of kidnapping. When she had lost her scarf and she had slapped him was the first time she had been really afraid, more even than when she had pepper sprayed him in the face. Hermione wanted to curse. After having initially hurt Scabior, she had removed the pepper spray from her school bag. That was something that Scabior had seemed right about, it was dangerous to have it on the school grounds, where she could end up hurting a fellow student.

Well, Hermione would put it right back into her school bag once she had the chance. If she hadn't removed it, she could have used it again - but no. Hermione felt guilty. Guilt was the root of the problem, guilt was why she had attempted to save Scabior. She wondered momentarily if Scabior had ever felt any guilt… But then she remembered him emptying the contents of his stomach in the bathroom and decided that he must. For all his shortcomings, Hermione would grudgingly give him that. She had thought – but it didn't matter what she had thought, because he hadn't done it. After he had left the room, Hermione had been so relieved to be spared that particular torment that she allowed herself to relax; and then had promptly passed out from exhaustion. She turned her head, enough to see the glowing red numbers on the nightstand clock. 8:34 PM.

It had been roughly 5 and a half hours then. It felt like days had gone by! Instead, the most horrendous day Hermione had ever had still hadn't ended. Hermione took another calming breath, annoyed with how loud the television was... And then she realized why the volume was turned up so loud. She waited for a moment, trying to gauge the volume on a scale of 1 to 10, wondering whether her voice could beat it out... But waiting and guessing wouldn't help, Hermione let out a sharp, short scream. A minute went by and nothing happened. Scabior didn't rush through the door, she heard no thumps or yelling from near-by rooms. The only noise was the continual droning of the TV.

Her dark eyes wild, Hermione tried to sit up again, hoping to see where the remote had been left, but it was nowhere in sight. She screamed again and called for help, but no one came. The motel was dingy, and most likely didn't have many occupants. It was early September, there were few, to no, tourists in town. Hermione was on her own, handcuffed to the bed of a man she despised. She bit her bottom lip, trying to keep from crying.

And she failed.

o0o

Scabior eyed Bellatrix's back, recalling with ease the moment he had met the vile woman. He had hoped to never deal with her again, or anyone else who ran in her circles. All of them were as insane as they came, and Scabior had been an idiot to ever fall in with this crowd, but... Here he was, back again. The inside of the old lumber mill was about as clean as it could get, floors swept and polished. A myriad of people bustled about, going in and out of rooms and running down corridors. Some of them look like they work in Riddle's offices, and they probably do, others look like they come from the streets and Scabior knows they do. The homeless and run-aways and people looking for help. He wonders how the place looks so decrepit from the outside, and how they keep wandering children from exploring the "abandoned" building. Scabior puts a cork in his thoughts, sealing them tightly and focuses once more on Bellatrix, who has stopped next to a room with the door closed. She knocks gently and waits until a muffled voice says something, before she opens the door and gestures for Scabior to go in before her.

He doesn't trust the heavy-lidded eyes that watch him, but Scabior forces himself to walk past her, pretending that he doesn't know how capable she is with a knife, and worse. The door closes behind Bellatrix, and she waits in front of it, twining a curl around her finger in a parody of a girl flirting. Scabior grimaces, but turns to the desk and lays his eyes on Thomas Riddle.

Thomas Riddle is in his early forties, and he's handsome. He has dark, messy hair that is just beginning to silver at the temples and a smile that can charm men and women alike. It would have charmed Scabior too, he looks like someone you can pal around with, maybe share a bottle of whiskey and do something stupid, no matter that he's wearing a three piece suit... But Scabior has seen the monster that lurks beneath the calm demeanor.

"Ah, Scabior, in a bit of trouble, are you?" Scabior waits a beat, but Riddle doesn't look up from the papers in front of him, so he mumbles an agreement, shifting nervously when he hears Bellatrix move behind him.

"Yes, Bella told me you were calling in that favor. Want this all cleaned up, I'm guessing? You do realize, I can do nothing about the police. We have... A stout-hearted bunch of officers, you see." Riddle signs something with a flourish and then twirls his pen between his fingers, eyes still on the paper. He looks like he should be a CEO, should be a man with a large family, though as far as Scabior knows, the man has never married. He spares a silent prayer for any woman that Riddle decides would add the right touch to his life. Or at least, the appearance he puts up.

"So no, I really can't do much about that." Riddle puts his pen down and then gestures at the chair sitting in front of his desk. Scabior sits down, adjusting his coat and trying not to scratch the back of his neck. He can feel Bellatrix watching him, like sharp fingernails against his neck.

"Well, yea' I, I didn' think ya'd be able to make 'em give up. I just... I need a place to disappear for a short while. Get them off my back," Scabior laughs, but the sound is hollow and he almost immediately stops. Bellatrix sniggers and Riddle looks up at her, clicking his tongue in a fatherly gesture of disapproval.

"Now, Bella, not nice to make fun. A place to hide out, Scabior? Hmm. About how long do you think you'll need it?" Scabior racks his brain. Two weeks? A month? Riddle has enough connections that he can get him out of the county and none would be the wiser. A short stay in a little hide-away and then he can make himself disappear...

"A month? Maybe a lil' less. Just, damn kid drew attention to me and I guess his father is a big-wig in town -Malfoy?" Scabior rubs his palms over the knees of his plaid pants, desperately wanting to get out of this awful place and never have anything to do with Thomas Riddle again.

Bellatrix makes a movement and Scabior turns quickly. She's only straightened, but she's giving him a very serious look. Scabior frowns and then turns back to Riddle, who is also frowning.

"Ah, I see. Well. I'll have a chat with Lucius, and you can rest assured, he won't say another word about you. But a month? That's all? Hmm. That's almost too easily arranged," Riddle chuckles and drums his fingertips against his desk, as if he were truly considering. Scabior can almost feel the weight lifting off of his shoulders. It's a shame that he can't try and make things right with Hermione, but as much as she draws him to her, it's safer this way. He'll leave, get out of her hair and try and make another life for himself somewhere else. No more cities, Scabior suddenly decides. He wants to see trees again and nature makes no judgments on your past.

"Very well then, Scabior, we-" A gunshot goes off and all three of them freeze. Riddle's eyes bore holes into Scabior for all of ten seconds, before Bellatrix is throwing open the door and screeching down the hall. Someone answers her almost immediately and she turns back to them, licking her bottom lip.

"Someone is outside, and it looks like Greyback is on their tail. Should I go and-" Before Bellatrix can finish, Riddle is up and striding across the room and out the door. Scabior blinks in surprise, but apparently this is something rather new to all of them, because Bellatrix runs after her boss and Scabior is left alone. Not wanting to be tempted into investigating Riddles things, Scabior gets up and follows after them, wondering who would be stupid enough to try and spy on Thomas Riddle.

o0o

Harry clapped his hand onto Ron's face, before Ron could squeak in fear. A very large man, over 6 feet tall, with beefy arms and dirty clothing and - Harry just barely kept himself from gasping. The man looked like a monster, and if he had been a few years younger, Harry would have sworn up and down that the man was a werewolf. Harry and Ron were as still as possible, watching the monstrous man slowly make his way through the trees in their direction. The flash light beam was getting ever closer and Harry could feel Ron tensing under his hands. If they didn't bolt, then the man would have no trouble catching them. Whatever these people, and Scabior included, were doing here, obviously wasn't meant for their eyes. Harry didn't think they'd want to have a chat about the weather.

"On the count of three, Ron, we're going to run. We'll go to the police station, alright? Hopefully what we've seen will help them get Hermione back. Now, one, two, _three_," Harry whispered it all quickly and on 'three', pushed Ron in the direction they had come from. Ron immediately stepped on a branch, the crack echoing in the darkness and they had run about a foot, when the gun fired. Both boys jumped and stumbled, but Harry had sensed, more than seen, the shot hit somewhere in front of them. He grabbed Ron's arm and yanked him back towards the building.

"Stop where you are!" A gruff voice shouted, and Harry didn't have to bet to know that it was the monstrous looking man. Harry ran parallel to the building, careful to keep to the trees and could just barely see Ron, running a few feet ahead and to the left of him. Shouts seemed to be rising like birds startled into flight. Different voices, some young, some old, male and female alike, echoed, all asking what was going on, was it the cops, who had found them? The monstrous man didn't answer, but Harry heard a young man shouting.

"Greyback saw 'em! Greyback is after 'em!" Harry stumbled, and almost went down.

Everyone in the area had heard of Fenrir Greyback. He had been sent to prison for the rape and murders of several women, two of which had been locals, as well as assault. Remus Lupin, a friend of Harry's father, had nearly been beaten to death by Greyback. A surge of anger welled within Harry and he broke from the trees, heading towards the very end of the old lumber mill, ignoring Ron's indignant shouts. There was sudden silence, as if everyone had realized that commotion would actually work against them, and Harry glanced over his shoulder to make sure they hadn't captured Ron. He thought he caught a glimpse of him, still darting around trees, but before Harry could make sure, he ran head first into something solid, but warm. Harry had always been thin and football had never been his first choice of sports. An average linebacker would most likely break him in two. He bounced off of the person and turned, trying to catch himself, just a bit too late. His head bounced off of something hard and a cracking noise echoed in his ears.

There was a searing, sharp pain in his forehead and when Harry quickly pushed himself up, he noted that his glasses were broken, before the blood started to get into his eyes. Strong, thin hands pulled Harry to his feet and turned him around – and Harry was face to face with Thomas Riddle. Movement behind him made Harry squint, and he could see Scabior standing not too far off, his eyes wide and lips parted in surprise.

"Oi, I know you!" Scabior says, and Riddle turns away from Harry for a split second. On instinct, Harry pushes Riddle as far away from his body as he can, and Harry bolts. He hears a curse and arguing behind him, and then, a hoarse female voice shouts into the night.

"You say a _word_ and it's on your little girlfriends head!" Harry feels his heart sink like a stone.

o0o

There are several things that Scabior feels guilty over, a few, silly things, done in his teenage years that no one but he remembers. There was a parcel he nicked that held gifts for an elderly woman and then the unfortunate circumstances that led to his first arrest. When he used Hermione as a hostage; and now, opening his mouth in the presence of Thomas Riddle.  
>He had thought that things were bad, with the cops on his trail and hate radiating off of the girl he'd taken a liking to. That was nothing compared to the regret he knew was working its way through his veins. It was all nothing, compared to what lay in store for the both of them now.<p>

Riddle didn't even have to voice his question, because Scabior knew that if he denied him the answer they would only force it out of him.

"The kid is a friend of the girls," Scabior murmured, blue eyes focusing on a distant point in the night sky.

"Retrieve the girl," Riddle says.

**A/N:** I know it's been a long while, truly sorry! Lots of life going on, dealing with the economy has taken a toll on my family - but anyway! Hope you enjoy the chapter and I'm already working on the next!


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